


The Longest Night

by castaliareed



Series: Lady and the Wolf [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Cousin Incest, Dark Jon Snow, Dragons, Dream Sex, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest, Jealous Jon, Jon Snow is King in the North, Kind Sansa Stark, Masturbation, Pregnancy, Queen Sansa, R plus L equals J, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Smut, Warg Jon Snow, Warging, Winterfell, canon-divergent, direwolf, king in the north
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2018-10-13 04:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 61,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10506147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castaliareed/pseuds/castaliareed
Summary: The Long Night is here. Sansa is left to rule in Winterfell while Jon has gone first to the Wall to meet Bran and then to Dragonstone to form an alliance with the dragon Queen. Sansa must both confront her inner demons and the darkness that is upon them.





	1. Sansa

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I was going to hold off posting until I had a few more chapters in the bag but f*ck it. In celebration, of that crazy season 7 trailer that was released to I decided to go for it.
> 
> Plus, I think everyone wants to see how this story is going to play out sooner rather than later.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. I haven't forgotten LF needs to die...he will I hope soon.

Sansa stood in Winterfell's yard until the gates closed behind Jon's party. He was gone, first to Castle Black to meet Bran then on to Dragonstone to form the alliance with the dragon Queen. Turning quickly, she walked in silence back to the castle's Great Keep. Brienne followed behind her leaving Lyanna Mormont and Ashara Dayne in the yard with the rest of Winterfell's loyal servants. Reaching the Lord's Chamber, she opened the door, slamming it behind her and leaning against it. Sansa let out a long breath with that the tears came. Silent at first until she was heaving, violently crying, tearing at her hair. Her stomach churned causing her to hurl nothing but clear bile, the contents of an empty stomach. 

There was a knock at the door, "My Queen, are you all right," Brienne asked. 

"Leave me," Sansa commanded. She was alone now. Alone in the vast north, without her king, her Lord husband, her lover, her cousin, her half-brother, everything Jon was and had been to her. What did titles mean when he was gone. She was afraid. The others, wights, like the one that had attacked her, did not scare her. The cold brought her solace. Littlefinger and his schemes only caused her mild concern. Even Cersei far to the south desperately hoping for someone to bring her Sansa's head, did not scare her. _All these things should. They should terrify me._  It was the night that scared her. The nights alone and the terrible dreams that came with them unnerved her in ways no living or half-dead being could. _Alone with my darkness._   

After a few moments, Brienne tried again, "Your grace, you really should break your fast," she said through the door. "I can have food brought to you."

"I said leave," Sansa shouted back. She knew Brienne would not really leave her door but she would stop asking her if she was alright. Throwing herself face down on the bed to muffle her screams. Her breath seemed to slow and she regained some control of her emotions. Until again her stomach reeled in pain forcing her into a ball. She spit clear bile from her mouth into her hands.

Crawling on her knees to find a rag to clean herself, Sansa saw the shadow of Alysanne, the snowy white owl she had claimed for her own, in the window. Staring hard at the owl, she felt herself begin to fly. Up higher and higher into the dark sky so she could see all the land surrounding Winterfell, a white barren landscape, the Wolfswood to the west, the Kingsroad heading north. Despite it being morning time, it was dark out. The moon had set but the sun had not risen.  _Morning, will not come today_. She turned to head to an even darker North, barely spotting the party of men on horseback. _Jon,_ she thought.   

Soaring above them, the owl saw Jon look up at her. He seemed to understand and even from this distance she thought she saw his lips turn upward. She wanted to follow them all the way to the wall. She fly with them as long as she could until going any further meant she would not be able to return to the castle. 

Later Sansa heard Ashara Dayne come to the door to ask Brienne about the Queen's condition.  The two women spoke in hushed tones. Lady Dayne saying to give her a day to miss her king. _A day, a day will never be enough. I will miss him with every bone in my body until he returns to me._

Sansa lost track of time laying on her bed in the dark room. She let the candles and the hearth burn out. With no light, not even the gray winter light, hours slipped by. She did not care. There came a soft pawing at the door. It must be evening time, she thought. Brienne called to her, to tell her she had a visitor of the four-legged kind. Not wanting anyone to see her red eyes and tangled hair, she almost sent the wolf away. Instead, she hid in the dark shadows of the room, while her Lady knight let Ghost enter. 

In her dreams, she was in a tent in the woods underneath furs in nothing but a woolen shift the direwolf next to her. Moving her body towards the animal for warmth, she could feel it's wet nose on her neck. She heard her name, _Sansa,_ over and over again in a soft growl, _Sansa_ , _Sansa,_ _Sansa_. Closing her eyes, she felt the wolf's paws turn to strong man hands, the soft fur became the light stubble of a beard. His hands ran the length of her body. Stopping in between her legs, caressing her until she was breathless and panting. He kissed her lips and bit her neck. It was all over too soon. He pushed off her body rising.  Hearing the flap of the tent open she saw the shadow of the tall man outlined by the winter moonlight leaving. _No_ she tried to say but the words would not form. _Please stay with me_. The moonlight turned to dark flames and she saw he carried a sword blazing hot white. 

How much time had passed, Sansa could not stay. The dark room her refuge. Ghost her companion. Alysanne had returned to her perch outside the window. The owl had flown as far as she could, the King and his men now far from the castle. Sansa's stomach growled but she did not call for food. 

At first, she thought the banging was in her head before realizing it was the door. Trying to ignore it, she kept quiet.  The banging continued. _Where was Brienne? It is her job to keep people away._

Finally, she realized she must answer the person, "Leave me. I am not well." she said in her softest kindest voice. 

A loud voice called out, "Queen Sansa!" It was Lyanna Mormont, the young lady of Bear Island. "You must open the door. Your people await you," she said in the surliest tone Sansa had ever heard a lady address a Queen. _If it isn't Arya Stark come again._  The thought made Sansa angry more than anything. She wanted to be alone with her sadness. Who did Lady Mormont think she was. _If she was Arya, I would tell her exactly what I think about how rude and unladylike she is,_ she thought. The banging only continued, louder now, until Sansa thought her head would split open. 

Getting up from the bed in anger, Sansa violently opened the door, red in the face, her hair unkempt and wild hanging past the middle of her back. Her plain woolen shift hanging off one of her shoulders. She looked as mad as she felt. 

"I said LEAVE ME! I am your Queen. How dare you bang on my door!" 

Lady Lyanna's eyes widened for a moment then turned into slits her mouth set firm. 

Pushing past Sansa to enter the room, "You aren't acting like our Queen." she said sounding as angry as the Queen. 

"And you here to tell me how a Queen should act?"

"No," she said. "I'm here to see if you're really unwell as Lady Dayne and Brienne said."

"I said I was not well," Sansa reiterated to the 10-year-old lady who was eyeing her up and down harshly. 

"hmm" 

"Lady Lyanna, I have been harsh." She said deciding to take a soft approach with the girl. "The King's departure has been difficult. I must rest." _Please just leave me_. 

"The King didn't die," she responded. "People leave all the time. They go to battles. They go to trade. They go to hunt. They go to marry. They go"

"Sometimes they do not return," Sansa reminded her holding the tears back. She would not cry in front of Lyanna Mormont. 

"Aye, sometimes they don't," Lyanna said. "My mother, my sisters went with your brother. They never returned."

The two stared at each other for several moments. 

"Put on that ugly tiara, your king gave you. The one you love so much. Your people want to see you, Queen Sansa." she said with only a hint of disdain in her voice. Lyanna went to walk out of the room without turning she said, "There hasn't been light for two days." The Lady did not even attempt to close the door. Standing in the middle of the room for a long time deep in shock. Sansa shook herself awake. _I am a Queen._   She called for Brienne who she was sure was just outside the door. 

"Lady Brienne, I think I would like a bath and some food, now," she said. The lady knight could be heard responding then sending the young Pod her squire to fetch a servant girl. Thinking for a moment, she added, "And tell all the castle to assemble. I will see them once I have bathed and dressed."

Candles were brought to light the room. Food was brought, a simple fair of porridge, bread, and dried meats. Sansa had not eaten in so long she thought she might retch. The more she ate the better she felt. She even gave Ghost bits of the meat. Once the food was gone, she almost thought to call for more. She was very hungry. Instead, she decided to bathe first. The bath was soon prepared and it was Lady Dayne herself who came to assist the Queen.

Sansa looked surprised that Lady Ashara Dayne had come. She wore a simple dark purple gown with silvery white embroidered stars on the sleeves. The neckline was high with a gray fur collar.  Her violet eyes sparkled, her long black hair with silver streaks hanging loose parted down the middle. She wore no corset and her stomach was showing the first signs of roundness. 

"Your grace," she said bowing. 

"Lady Dayne, are you well?"

"Yes, your grace. It is good to see you feeling better," she said in her soft tone barely lifting her eyes to look at Sansa. Yet, still the Queen felt the Lady take in her disheveled state. 

"Yes, I was unwell," she said. "But now I am much recovered."

"The people will be relieved to see their Queen," she said while keeping her eyes lowered. Sansa thought Ashara Dayne had a quiet power. "The darkness has them...unsettled." she said finally looking up. Her violet eyes gently gazing into the deepest of Sansa's soul. 

"That is my hope, Lady Dayne," she answered. Trying not to show the Lady how unsettled she felt. _The darkness? The long night is upon us and I am alone._

"They do love you, your grace," 

Sansa smiled slightly at that not sure how much of it to believe. _They would never have chosen me. I am only Queen because Jon made it so._

"The King made you Queen because of his love for you. And because he saw you had many talents," she said as if she could read Sansa's mind. _How does she always do that?_ Sansa thought. "It would do a great disservice to your people if you did not use them."

Sansa pulled her white woolen shift off, gradually stepped into the bath that had been brought while Lady Dayne busied herself preparing the soaps and oils. Moving to stand behind Sansa, she poured water on her hair. Sansa thought of her mother, who would wash and brush her hair. Then, she heard the woman gasped ever so quietly. _My bruises._

In the candlelight, Sansa's bruises from three days earlier could still be seen. Many had faded but still plenty were turning from deep purple to a greenish color. She looked up at Lady Dayne.

"It did not hurt," she assured the woman. _It had hurt._ It hurt in a way that made Sansa want more. She had commanded Jon to do it. She had hurt him back when they made love next to the hot spring pool in the crypts. She wanted to see the darkness in him. They both found it, in all it's frightful glory. _Each bruise a million small deaths._

"I was young once," was all the lady told Sansa. She rinsed Sansa's hair while Sansa scrubbed her arms and legs. Once clean, she got out of the tub drying herself and putting on her black robe with gold embroidered direwolves and fur trim. She sat before Ladye Dayne allowing her to brush her hair that had grown so very long. 

"My Lady, it is good of you to help," she said.  "I hope it is not too stressful in your condition."

"Today I am well," Ashara Dayne replied, "The first part and the last are the hardest from what I remember." Sansa nodded. "I'm sure it will be easier for you," she added. Sansa whipped her head to look at the lady.

"What do you mean?" Sansa asked.

"Surely, you know,"

"No..I don't think so," Sansa said. 

"Ahh..that is why you did not tell, his grace?" Lady Dayne said more to herself than to Sansa.

"Lady Dayne, I'm not sure I understand," she said. 

"My Queen, you'll have a winter child."

"I couldn't be...I..." she stammered, "My moonblood came a few weeks ago...I think.."

"Very light?" the lady asked.

"Yes..."  _How does she always know everything even before I do? What type of sorcery does she truly practice?_

"That is sometimes the case," she told her.

Sansa fell silent not knowing how to feel. Letting Lady Dayne continue to brush her hair while it dried. It was a long time before she spoke again, "I thought...I thought it would be different," she confessed. 

"I thought...I would be a great Lady or Queen..with a Lord Husband by my side," Sansa continued. "A court full of people around me when I would become a mother."

"You don't have those things?" Lady Dayne asked continuing to make long strokes with the brush through Sansa's hair. "You aren't those things?"

"But Jon is gone,"

"He will return,"

"How do you know," Sansa asked. She heard Lady Dayne sigh to herself. 

"Because, the Great War has only just begun." she replied in the same quiet tone she said everything else. 

The thought did not reassure Sansa. She stared down at her stomach. Could it be true that she would be a mother?  _It was still so early. Many pregnancies do not last. I must not get hopeful._

She got up from the chair in front of Lady Dayne. Finding her deep gray velvet gown with a white direwolf and red one embroidered on the back. The sleeves adorned with light gray snowflakes. It was a dress she had just finished making before the king left. Pulling the gown on she said, "I always wanted to be a mother."  

She hesitated thinking over her words before letting out a trial of thoughts, "I didn't know it would be Jon. Then, I didn't know he would leave me. The Lords, they didn't choose me to be Queen. And now the long night is here. It was all supposed to be so different."  _It was all supposed to be light and goodness and beautiful things._

"The Gods and the prophecies meant for you to be a Queen," Lady Dayne said. "They meant for the king to protect your people, to protect you, to protect the child you'll have," Sansa felt the lady's eyes on her, glancing at her gray gown with the white and red wolf on it.

"It is all that you ever wanted?" she asked in her soft calm voice.

"Yes," she said. "It is wrong and selfish to wish for it to be different."

"It is not wrong," Lady Dayne told her. "No one wishes to face the darkness alone, even Queens."

Sansa watched her turn to Ghost gazing at the direwolf, who calmly looked up at her.

"Farness is not aloneness," she added. "He will protect us and we must protect him. There are battles to be fought within the castle walls just as there are without." With that Sansa remembered all she must do. 

There was a knock at the door. Lady Brienne was there to tell Sansa that the castle was assembled in the Great Hall. She turned to Lady Dayne motioning for her to bring the tiara that was sat on a table in the corner of the room and follow her. Ghost who had not left the room walked with them as they made their way slowly to the hall not speaking.  

Standing before the door to the hall, Lady Dayne looked at the Queen placing the tiara on her head, she said a slight smile on her face, "They will sing songs of you, your grace." 

Sansa could only stare back then turn to enter the Great Hall with Ghost by her side. She felt the eyes of the few bannerman that remained at Winterfell, a third of the Vale forces, their household guard, and all the loyal servants of the castle. _I may not be who they chose. They will never call my name as loudly as they call his. But I am their Queen and they are my people._   

 


	2. Bran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran Stark nervously reunites with his brother-cousin Jon, at Castle Black. Slowly, they re-kindle their brotherly bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure about doing a Bran chapter right off the bat for this work. But then I started working on it and something special always comes out of a Bran chapter. I mean how do you have a conversation with anyone when you already can see the past, present, and future? Like Bran knows everything and Jon knows nothing...except when he doesn't. So it kinda all works. And of course, Jon still tries to play the big brother.

**Bran**

The horn sounded announcing the arrival of the King in the North at the gates of Castle Black. Bran swallowed hard before asking Meera Reed to bring him out into the yard. _His brother was here. No, he had no brothers left to him, only sisters. Jon was his cousin, now. I must remember that._ Of all the times, he wished he could walk this was the time Bran wished it the most. _Jon is the King in the North, and I am a broken boy. The last time he saw me I could walk now I am crippled. What does having visions matter when I can't stand next to him in battle._

The gates opened and the men rode into the castle yard brightly light by the bonfires. Jon was leading the way on a black stallion with what must have been thirty plus men at arms behind him. Bran was stunned. He looked so much older, of course, he looked older. The stubble of a beard on Jon's chin, his dark wavy hair pulled back from a long stern face. He was still lean but he looked a man not a boy. _He looks like my lord Father,_ Bran thought, _Only different._ Bran had seen Jon in his visions. Somehow seeing him in person was all the more jarring. 

An older man who was small of frame with salt and pepper hair, moss green eyes, and a dark green woolen cloak was on horseback just behind Jon. The minute he lowered himself from his horse Meera shouted and ran toward him. Wrapping her arms around him, "Father," she said. Howland Reed held his daughter and for the first time since he had known her, Bran saw Meera weep. 

Edd Tollett, the current Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, walked up to Jon, bowing and saying a few words Bran could not hear. They motioned to where Bran wrapped in furs was brought out to sit at the top of the stairway overlooking the yard. Jon looked up at him as if he could barely believe his eyes. Walking quickly towards Bran, he reached him and they embraced. 

"It's really you." he said holding him tightly. 

Bran barely had words all he could say was, "Jon." They smiled at each other.  Bran felt tears coming to his eyes but he would not cry not in front of Jon. He was nearly a man grown, he may not be able to walk but he would not cry. 

Holding him at arms length, Jon looked into his face, "I can't believe it's really you. You've grown."

"So have you. You look old." Bran tried to joke. Jon gave him at sad smile before hugging him again. 

"Your grace, we have rooms in the King's Tower prepared for you," Edd Tollett said. Bran thought Jon looked a bit uncomfortable being called your grace. 

"Yes, best get settled. Bran and I have catching up to do," the King in the North said. Commands were given, horses stabled. Jon talked briefly with Edd about the arrangements and how long they would be staying. Meera Reed barely moved from her father's side introducing him to Bran before showing him to his rooms. Through, it all Bran watched from his perch at the top of the stairs. Seeing Jon move about the yard giving commands made him feel as useless as ever. At the same time his heart swelled with pride. 

That evening they took their dinner together in private with only Lord Reed and Meera. The food was simple stew, bread, and salted meat. In truth, it was hard to tell if it was even evening time. Castle Black had not seen light for a sennight. The wildlings whispered that the Long Night was upon them. Bran did not need the wildlings to tell him of the long night. He had visions that told him that it would come. 

 Bran had been worried Jon would not understand everything that had happened to him North of the wall. He wanted to tell Jon of the visions he had when he touched a weirwood tree, or how he could warg into wolves and birds, or of the three-eye-raven or wights or the others. When Bran told him told him it began with the wolf dreams after his fall, Jon nodded. He seemed to know, to accept what Bran had to say.  

"Do you, Jon?" Bran asked. "Do you have wolf dreams." Jon shifted uncomfortably in his seat gazing at the Reeds. 

"Jojen helped me," Bran said. "He helped me not be so afraid." Jon again quietly nodded but said nothing more. Meera stared down at her food, her eyes glistened with tears. No doubt she had spoken with her father of her brother's death. _She never says it but she misses her brother._

"Jojen had the green sight," Meera said to Jon. "He knew we had to go to Bran and help him. 

"And House Stark, thanks you for that," Jon told her. 

"We are pledged to your house, your grace. It's our duty."

"Aye, my mother's house," Jon said to her. Meera glanced at her father. Word had reached Castle Black of Jon's true parentage and his marriage to Sansa. Bran had made the discovery more than a moon ago in a vision at the weirwood tree just north of the Wall.  He did not need a raven to bring him the message when he was the three-eyed raven. 

"You're just as much of your mother's house as your father's," Lord Reed said to the King. "Lyanna Stark defended me many years ago. Our houses are bound by honor and blood." 

"Father, do you think all Starks had wolf dreams?" Meera asked her father. 

"Sansa's wolf was killed," Bran said. 

"How do you know..." Jon started to say before realizing he knew how Bran was aware of Lady's death. Remembering he must have been at Winterfell when Lady's body was returned to the castle.  

Turning to Jon, Bran asked, "Do you think she can? Skin change?" It was another question Jon only answered with silence. _He knows the answers do not matter. He knows I do not need the answers from him._

"You have seen the others?" Lord Reed asked Bran and Meera.

"Yes," he responded. "In my visions and at the heart tree."

"They came for us," Meera said. 

"She killed one," Bran told Jon and Lord Reed with a hint of pride in his voice. 

Jon eyed Lady Meera, "With what?" he asked. 

"In the cave, we had spears of dragon glass."

"She made them," Bran added. "With the dragon glass your friend, the brother of the Night's Watch, gave us at the Nightfort."

"Sam?" Jon confirmed. 

"Yes, the one with the wildling girl and baby."

"I'll skin him for not stopping you's from going North," Jon said in complete seriousness. 

"You could not stop them, your grace," Lord Reed said. "They had to go." Jon grimaced at that. "The great war is coming and we each have a role to play."

Bran looked down at the simple food of salted meats and beans, "It's not coming. It's here." The group was silent for awhile. 

"With your leave, your grace," Lord Reed asked Jon. "It has been a long day."

"Of course," Jon said to the lord. The Reeds got up from the table leaving Bran with his cousin. _It is so hard to think of him as my cousin._

Jon looked at Bran telling him, he would like to go to the top of the wall. Bran reluctantly agreed. He did not need to take the winch to see the top of the wall. It was much easier to warg into a raven and fly up to the top. Jon seemed determined and Bran did not want to disappoint him. His brother-cousin gently carried him to the winch which Bran hated. He told Jon of how he used to ride of Hodor's back. He also told him how Hodor died at the cave underneath the heart tree.

"It was my fault," he told Jon. "Summer died, too"

"So, many have died," Jon said to him as they stood in the winch. Bran could feel the bitter cold wind blowing it back and forth as it creaked up the Wall. "I died and they brought me back."

"You are still a brother to me, Bran," Jon said. Bran gave Jon a shy half smile. "We were raised as brothers. Nothing changes that."

"I've changed," he said. "I can't walk...

"You have other powers," Jon told him. "More important powers."

"The visions..." Bran said carefully. "Some I don't understand, some are sad."

"At least you know if you don't understand," Jon said. "That's better than some priests and priestesses."

"I saw what happened when you were born," he began to tell him. "Your mother, and my father and Lord Reed, they were all there. And Arthur Dayne of the Kingsguard was outside the Tower to protect her and you." 

"I've heard this from Lord Reed and Lady Dayne," Jon said. Bran could hear the heaviness in his voice. 

"Lady Dayne?" Bran asked.

"Ahh...ya don't see everything do you?" Jon chuckled a bit. "Lady Ashara Dayne of Starfall has come back from the dead to grace Winterfell with her presence."

"Arthur Dayne's sister?"

"Aye," Jon affirmed. "She came with Lord Reed. She has...well..It's not clear what her ends are but she's been very generous to House Stark." Bran looked down at the floor of the winch. He had not seen Ashara Dayne in his visions.

"I saw you and Sansa," Bran said trying to prove to Jon, he did truly have visions. "I saw you at night under the heart tree in the Godswood. She wore a tiara and you promised yourselves to each other. A lady knight and squire watched." 

Jon rubbed his gloved hands together, "That is how it happened." After a few moments, Jon said, "Sansa's my queen. You are my good-brother, now."

As they reached the top of the Wall, Bran wondered how Jon saw Sansa differently. In his visions, he saw how beautiful his sister had become. A haunted sadness had washed over her defining her high cheekbones, smoothing her pale skin. The constant candle light turning her ever longer auburn waves into a dark flame.   _How am I still a brother to him and Sansa not a sister? Maybe it does not matter to him._

"And now she is Lady of Winterfell," Bran stated to himself. 

"She is that," Jon said turning and crouching down so that he could carry Bran on his back. "I'm not sure she is keen to give it up."

"I don't want to be a Lord," Bran said. The wind whipping around them as Jon began to walk along the icy top of the Wall.  

"There are other lands. The Dreadfort, The Hornwood lands, or one of the castles on the Wall if you prefer..."

"Being a lord...That's not my role," Bran told his brother-cousin sadly. Jon stopped turning to face North. It was a clear night. The bleak snowy landscape stretched out before them, reflecting the moonlight. 

"We have to work together Bran...to defeat what is coming," Jon said. "You've seen it. You know."

Bran looked out in the same direction as Jon, "We will. We all will." They stayed at the top of the Wall as the moon continued to rise. The cold giving them strength. As they talked through the night, Bran thought Jon seemed sadder, darker. He promised Bran he would protect them. That Sansa wanted to avenge their family and that he would protect her too. He talked of how Sansa had changed that the people who hurt their family had hurt her. Jon warned Bran that his sister would try to hide her pain. _Just as you do. All the emptiness and hurt, you are trying to hide under a stern face._

They spoke of Arya and that last she had been seen by the Lady Knight, Brienne, with the Hound near the Vale. Jon told Bran of the trouble in the Riverlands saying he hoped Arya was far from there. Bran told him that she wasn't that she wasn't far away, anymore. Jon only looked dismayed at the thought. 

When Bran talked of skin-changing Jon told him that even though Ghost was with Sansa at Winterfell, he still dreamt he was the animal faithfully, guarding his Queen. He laughed a bit when he told Bran how much the direwolf liked Sansa. Jon told him how Sansa's snowy owl named Alysanne, had followed them for first day of their journey. Bran said that was not the owl that it was Sansa. Again Jon grew quiet.  

The moon was low in the sky when they took the winch back down to Castle Black. Bran was tired but happy. He forgot how loved Jon. Still, deep in his gut there was an unsettled feeling. Jon had changed, so had Bran. Now, the Great War was here. 

Jon decided they would stay barely a sennight more at Castle Black. Bran saw that he was anxious to continue his journey to Dragonstone and to have Bran at Winterfell. He did not know if it was for his own safety or Sansa which concerned Jon the most. Jon thought Bran's vision could help Sansa, his brother-cousin had told him. _If she will listen to them._   Bran thought of  Sansa, another person who has never seen him crippled. 

The days went by quickly. Jon held council meetings with Edd Tollett, Lord Reed, his new advisor Lord Davos, and a wildling named Tormund Giantsbane who would be taking command of one of the castles on the Wall. He also insisted that Bran and Meera join them as they discussed the re-building of the castles, winter stores, and the war to come. Bran was to report back to Sansa all they discussed. 

The men peppered Meera and Bran with questions about their fight with the others and wights at the tree crave. Yes, they would need fire and dragon glass and valyrian steel, Bran got tired of saying over and over again. Still is was good to feel useful even if the meetings were tiresome. 

The morning before they were to leave Bran sat with Jon watching the training yard. There was nothing more to discuss in meetings. All that was left was to begin their journies. Bran found no peace in the waiting only anxiousness. He thought Jon felt the same. Instead, he tried to focus on the lithe figure of Lady Meera, was practicing with a sword by the light of the bonfires. 

"She prefers a spear," Bran said to no one in particular.

"Aye, she's getting used to the sword, though. She'll need it," Jon responded. 

"She's already killed one of the others" Bran stated. 

Jon grunted saying, "She's a brave woman."

"And kind, mostly," Bran added not quite knowing why he said that. _It's true._

Jon laughed, "Aye, most of them are kind, mostly."

"Sometimes she tells me what to do." _I don't like when she does that just because she is older or she can walk._

"Aye, Sansa's the same," Jon says with a slight laugh. Bran thinks that Jon doesn't laugh at all or even really smile much except when he thinks about Sansa. Bran looked up at his former brother now cousin. A look of revelation passed between them.  It was as if they were seeing each other again for the first time. 

Jon cocked his head, "Do you..the Lady Reed...do you fancy her?" Bran blushed the deepest red. "You were together north of the Wall for a long time...nothing ever.." 

Bran almost shouted, "No, never." His mind going to the cold nights when they were huddled next to each other for warmth. How much he enjoyed those moments and how he missed them now that they had their own rooms at Castle Black.  _Jon wouldn't understand that. He will laugh at me._

"Does it...does it ya know go up?" he asked nodding his head towards the lower part of Bran's body. Now Bran was even more embarrassed. If he could walk away from Jon in that very instant he would. Being stuck back in the tree would be better than this conversation with Jon.

"Well, ya don't have to tell me. They...some who can't walk can still...ya know.." he started to say. 

"And there are other things women like," Jon added. Bran desperately wanted to know what those other things were. He even thought he might like to try those things with someone, with Meera maybe. _But not from Jon. Not from Jon who had taken my sister, Sansa, to wife._  

Jon got up patting him on the shoulder, "When you're a bit older I'll tell ya about 'em." Bran thought he was plenty old enough to know now. He wanted to tell Jon he could just warg into a raven and watch whoever he wanted. 

"I can find out other ways," he said defiant as he watched Jon start to walk away. 

"Aye, ya can," he said back. Stopping, Jon turned again to face Bran. "You are Stark," he said leaning towards him and grabbing the back of his neck. Bran felt Jon's gray eyes bore into him. "And  if I don't ya act honorably I'll ring your head like a bell."

Bran's eyes narrowed, "Do you act honorably with Sansa?" He instantly regretted his words. He could see hurt flash across Jon's face. 

"Soon, you can ask her yourself." 

"Jon..I...I didn't mean," he started to say. 

"I know," Jon assured him walking away. "Lady Reed is a fine lady. When ya older maybe I'll make ya a match...If she'll have ya." Was the last thing Jon said to Bran just as Meera Reed's sword came crashing down on her opponent in the yard below. 


	3. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> White Harbour was awash in darkness, too. Jon must have dreamt most of the night. Except it's not a dream. I can't even pretend anymore. 'At night, I am the wolf. At night, I visit her bed. But it is all night, now.' He no longer knew when the wolf ended and he began. Returning to the cold bed in Lord Manderly's castle gave him no joy. He knew soon he would be too far from Ghost to enter his skin and lay next to Sansa at night. 'What will I be then?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to post this here until I had one or two more chapters finished. I like to be a little ahead of the game in case I want to make changes. But I just couldn't resist. I'm doing my best to update as much as I can. I keep writing meta pieces instead of chapters!

**Jon**

Jon laid on the bed propped up against pillows in his breeches and a woolen tunic. It had been a long hard journey to White Harbour by ship from East-Watch-By-Sea. They had ridden from Castle Black to the Night's Watch eastern most castle. The ship took them along the coast and through the Bite to the mouth of the White Knife. They had arrived only that morning in the North's wealthiest city.  Lord Manderly had received him and his men a few hours earlier in his lavish Great Hall. 

The King had sorely underestimated how much he would miss his Queen. Since she arrived at Castle Black they had not spent a day apart until he left her at Winterfell to retrieve Bran. He did not expect it to feel as if half of himself was missing. 

Lord Manderley had given him the raven's message upon their arrival saying it had come that morning. The direwolf seal had not been broken and Jon hoped that the Lord had not taken the liberty to attempt to read his correspondence. 

_Jon_

_It is my hope that you have arrived safely in White Harbour. Bran is with us, now. It gives me much joy to have him back_. _He is changed and the same. I fear the darkness has touched us all. He says I fawn over him too much. I told him someone must care for him. He still insists he does not want to be the Lord of Winterfell or lord of anywhere. We must allow him to make his own decisions for now._

_Light has not come since you left us. I expect it was the same at Castle Black. What of White Harbour?  We must make arrangements for shipments brought to be brought there. Let us hope Lord Manderly will be agreeable._

_Lord Baelish pushes us to buy grain from the Vale. Lady Dayne insists the prices are too high, that we will fair better buying from Essos. I suspect she will profit from both sides of a deal made in the East. I can not say that it is such a problem if the prices are truly lower. Lord Baelish does not like it. Lady Dayne does not like Lord Baelish. We know he has a plan. Certainly, a plan more dangerous than hers._

_A raven came for you from the Citadel two days past. Forgive me, I have opened it. It was from your friend Sam written in the code you taught me. He has confirmed what I wished to know of Lord Baelish. You must precede with what we discussed. He also says he has left the Citadel and rides North. We may have a new maester, yet._

_Word from the Riverlands is quiet now that winter is upon us. Bran speaks of visions of Arya. But she has not come to us. I dare not hope too much._

_My days are full. I ride into Winter Town two or three times a week to meet with our people. Most everyone is well clothed and fed. I have had many of the children, wildling and northern alike brought to the castle. They have lessons and Brienne takes the best boys and girls to train them._

_In your raven, you asked of my nights. Ghost watches over me as I sleep as faithful as ever. Though I admit I sleep little, he wakes me in the night. I do not mind. I miss you terribly._

_May your journey be safe and return to me soon,_

_Sansa_

Jon held the letter in his hands for a long time. _Sansa, there is something you are not saying. You speak too much of others, of politics, and too little of yourself._ He didn't know if he was angry or simply missed her. He cursed himself for not making arrangements to receive letters from someone else at Winterfell as she had done. _She thinks I do not know she asked Lord Davos to write to her of the journey. Or maybe she does not care if I know._ He wanted details she would not give him. He wanted to know how she really was. If she was still waking in terror at night. If she still covered her pain with cold courtesy. If she still fell on occasion pretending to have slipped on ice when she was really slipping into her owl. _Except I don't need letters to tell me these things. Nothing has changed._

Putting the letter down Jon pulled out the leather bound notebook from the satchel that he had placed next to the bed. Opening it to the charcoal drawings. _"My love I will miss you so much. I found this while salvaging the books that had not been burned in the fire. It must've been my Lord Father's._ " read the note she had left inside. He paged through the images most certainly drawn by Ned Stark. He never knew Ned had an eye for drawing. _Another secret you kept, Lord Stark._ Jon stopped on a page of a young girl standing in front of a horse. At the bottom of the page was written _Lyanna,_ the girl that started a war.He had stared at that picture so many times since he first opened the notebook on the way to Castle Black. It was true she was pretty, a wild untamed quality to her. _My mother_ , he thought. All the years he wanted to know who she was, what she looked like, and all he had to do was look in the mirror. 

There were loose pages in the back as well. Pages added later, images of children, a young Robb and himself training in the yard. Bran and Rickon running in the Godswood. Arya with her hair messy like a bird's nest. A young Sansa sat with a look of concentration focused on her needlework. There was another picture of two youths sat in a room each with a direwolf pup ignoring one and another. It was him and Sansa with their wolves. She cradled Lady in her arms while a brush lay unused on the floor next to her. He looked intently at Ghost who sat in front of him obeying a command. Jon did not remember this scene from his youth. The window showed it was a rainy day. A day they would've been forced to stay inside the keep. Those days he often hid in a corner with a book or played a game with his siblings. Not Sansa, though, rarely with Sansa after she was eight or nine and preferred her needlework, books, or the company of Jeyne Poole. Jon wondered where Arya or Bran or Robb were in this image. Off playing no doubt. That left him and Sansa to quietly tend to their new pets, he supposed. On the page, Lord Stark's hand had written only, _A Dream_. 

Jon put the first notebook aside. She had given him two notebooks when he left Winterfell. Bound and hidden in a saddle bag with his personal belongings, a surprise she gifted him. The second one was thinner the few pages sewn together by an expert hand. There was an image of Ghost followed by one of the snowy owl, Alysanne penned by his Queen. Sansa's hand was skilled, her lines delicate, a gift from her Lord Father no doubt. Improved by all those years of needlework. She had added an image of him asleep in the bed they had begun to share even before he made her his queen. He smiled at the thought of her watching him while he slept. The note on the opposite page told him that she had made a copy of this image to keep for herself. 

 It was the last image in the book that Jon gazed on more than any other. And he gazed on all the pictures every night as he laid alone underneath furs in a tent or on a bed in a castle keep. Holding the parchment in his hands now, the image of his Queen drawn in dark charcoal by her own hand. The blue eyes rendered as dark bottomless pools, the cheekbones high.  Her hair fell loose around her face, she wore her black and gold fur trimmed robe. It hung slightly open in the front showing the curve of her breasts down just past her belly. It was the most beautiful image he had ever seen. 

All thoughts fell away when he held the image of Sansa in his hands. He remembered the softness of her skin, his hands tangled in her hair, her legs wrapped around his body as he thrust into her. He put the notebook down and closed his eyes letting his hand slide down his breeches. His cock was already hard and it didn't take him long to find relief. A few minutes of quick firm strokes was all it took for his seed to spill out.  Almost disappointed that he couldn't stay with his restless thoughts longer, he cursed as he cleaned himself with a rag he would have to burn later. 

Through, the window Jon saw the moon high in the sky. He closed his eyes to rest, tomorrow would be a long day with councils amongst Lord Manderly and his bannermen planned. He did not mean to stay in White Harbor long. Only long enough to secure the shipments of additional food. He urged himself to think of his Queen not grain shipments as his soul reached out for Winterfell and something like a dream overtook him.

The white wolf prowled through the castle halls. Coming to the heavy oaken door and pawing at it. Podrick, the squire let him into the warm dark room. In the shadows, a form moved slowly up and down underneath the furs on the bed. He climbed onto the bed next to her, the Queen in the North, careful not to disturb her sleep. Her smell was of lavender and rose water and earthiness. 

In her sleep, she moved her body towards the wolf's nuzzling against his warmth. He pressed his nose into her hair taking in all of the smells. There was a new smell, too. It was a smell she had not had before. The first time he had smelled it was several weeks ago shortly before the King had left. Since then the scent had only become stronger. It made him more protective of her. 

The wolf tried to sleep peacefully next to the Queen. Soon he noticed her breathing begin to shorten. Her legs jerked underneath the furs. It was going to happen again. Three nights before he had been shocked awake by her screams. The large Lady Knight had run into the room, to calm the Queen. After that, he thought he must be more diligent during the night. He must try and wake her before she cries out. Each episode was usually followed by a night or two of peace. 

As her body began to move in jerky motions the wolf nudged her and placed a paw lightly on her arm. Gradually, he pressed harder into arm letting his claws press into her skin. She tried to move her arm away but the wolf's paw stayed on her until her eyes popped open.

"Ohh...Ghost..." she whispered in a raspy sleepy voice. "You woke me again, silly beast." She reached up to scratch behind his ears. He licked her arm in appreciation and because it made her smile. She looked straight into his eyes now. 

"I wonder...are you there?" she whispered to the wolf.

Sighing, she added, "How would I know, my wolf?" She ran her hand down his long body petting him softly. He nuzzled his wet nose against her cheek. 

"If you are there, I must tell you, it seems there will be three of us," she whispered. "I am with child. No one must know, yet. I will not send the news in a raven." The wolf felt her search his eyes trying to see if he understood. 

Unable to tell her that he very much understood. He had known or suspected for weeks. He wanted to say that her secrets did not matter, he would still love her. Instead, the wolf curled up next to his Queen and fell asleep.  

A knock on the door pulled Jon out of his dream state. It was one of his men alerting him that the moon had fallen and bringing him food to break his fast. White Harbour was awash in darkness, too. Jon must have dreamt most of the night. _Except it's not a dream. I can't even pretend anymore. At night, I am the wolf. At night, I visit her bed. But it is all night, now._ He no longer knew when the wolf ended and he began.Returning to the cold bed in Lord Manderly's castle gave him no joy.  He knew soon he would be too far from Ghost to enter his skin and lay next to Sansa at night. _What will I be then?_

As he ate the large meal of sweatmeats, porridge, and bread, he reflected on what Sansa had told him. _Had he heard correctly? Maybe it was a dream?  No, it was the truth. The truth she feared putting in a raven._ Jon was only now starting to determine how well the truth of his parentage and marriage was known outside the North. How much it was accepted. They still had to be careful. And now there would be a child to consider. An heir to the North be girl or boy was in Sansa's belly. It was more than Jon ever let himself dream. Now, that it was here all he felt was fear. 

Lord Davos was summoned to the rooms Jon was using shortly after he finished his food. He wanted to speak with the Onion Knight before they met with Lord Manderly. Lord Davos was a bit grizzled his salt and pepper beard was showing more salt these days. His sigil of a ship with three onions on it sewn on his breast was faded from the sea journey. _He will have to fix that. We are not on the battlefield. He must look the part of advisor when we reach Dragonstone._   

"What did you learn in the taverns of White Harbour?" he asked. 

"Well, your grace. There are many that claim they love ya, love Queen Sansa," he said. "They call you the wolf dragon, the white wolf, and her the red wolf, or Winterfell's Daughter, wolves with wings. They even say she turned into a wolf with leather wings and flew into battle alongside the Knights of the Vale."

"Ha!" Jon laughed. "If her sister Arya were to hear that. She'd run back to Winterfell just to prove Sansa's no warrior."

"Aye, your grace, Gods be good she has heard," Davos said to him. 

"Hm..if the gods even cared," Jon responded leaning back in his chair staring at the sword, Dawn propped in the corner. He would have no time to train with both swords Dawn and Longclaw while at White Harbour. His body ached for a fight. "What else are they saying? The commonfolk, not the gods."

"Others say the Starks want to be Targaryens. That well...ya claim Lyanna as your Mother and Rhaegar as ya father to...forgive me, your grace...to bed your sister." Jon nodded at that. He assumed some would believe as much. There were days he believed, too. 

"That's all they say? If that is the worst of it, we can correct it in time," Jon said.

"A few but not many sing a song saying your Queen cast a spell on you, or that the red witch did."

"The Red Witch?" Jon asked narrowing his eyes.

"I'm half inclined to believe that one," Davos said only for Jon to scowl. "I only jape, your grace."

"Not very well," Jon was in no mood for japes. "The Red Witch is gone from the North. How do they know of her here."

"From the stories of Stannis. The tale of how she brought you back from the dead. From the songs of the battle you fought," he told Jon who studied the tapestry on the wall. It had a Merman intertwined with a Mermaid. He thought how he would rather be intertwined with his Queen right about now instead of speaking with Lord Davos.  

"I think it's time we go to Lord Manderly," Jon said avoiding discussion of the Red Witch, Melisandre, and starting to walk towards the door. 

"Of course, your grace," Lord Davos replied following his liege out the door. "Even heard one mention a purple witch whose fallen from the sky and landed at Winterfell."

Jon sighed, "Lady Dayne?"

"Most likely," Davos answered. Jon cursed to himself again, _After this no more priestess at Winterfell._   _The whole realm will think I've conjured up my crown._

"If she would marry Lord Reed, they would not see her as a sorceress," Jon said aloud. 

"Mayhaps," Lord Davos thought. "The common folk are just as like to see it the other way 'round, too. That she's got Lord Reed under a spell." The two men continued their walk towards Lord Manderly's hall. Jon keeping his gaze straight down the long hallway lined with tapestries of underwater scenes.

Reaching Lord Manderly's solar, Jon entered along with Lord Davos, the gigantic Lord was sat at a large table along with his maester and his last living son, Wylis. 

"Ah good morrow, your grace," he said attempting to rise. Jon motion to him that rising was not necessary. _We will be here all morning if we have to wait for Lord Too-Fat-To-Sit-A-Horse to get up and down._ Jon quickly took the first seat he saw across from the lord. 

"Might I offer you some Ale or perhaps a meat pie," a jolly Lord Manderly asked the King in the North. 

"I ate already," Jon said with an edge to his tone. He was in no mood for pleasantries or more food. "We must talk of more important matters." They had no intention of prolonging their stay in White Harbour to feast with the fat Lord. 

"Of course, of course, your grace," Lord Manderly acquiesced. 

The arrangements were quickly made to have grain and other food supplies from Essos brought to the North via Lady Dayne's connections. Lord Manderly was content that even his pockets would benefit from the arrangements she had made. Jon thought again on how odd the Lady Dayne was. He had met very few like her. _A sorceress, a trader, and a profiteer._  

Lord Manderly sent his son and Maester away once the primary trade arrangements were made. Leaving Jon and Lord Davos to talk with him of what supplies might also come from the Vale, a much more delicate matter. Jon knew they would have to benefit the Vale somehow. A gift for their contributions to the battle for Winterfell. 

"You have made the arrangements with Lord Baelish?" the Lord inquired. 

"The proper arrangements are being made. Lord Baelish is not the only Lord in the Vale," said Davos. Jon feigning disinterest preferred to let the Onion Knight speak on this matter.  "We prefer that the shipments from the Vale go unnoticed if you will, my Lord,". Jon noted that Lord Manderly raised an eyebrow but said nothing preferring to continue eating his meat pie.

"We don't suffer smugglers in White Harbour," Lord Manderly reminded the men with his mouth full of pie before washing it down with a gulp of ale. 

"Ah, nor would we want ya, too," agreed Lord Davos. "The shipments from Essos will I'm sure, be able to help with the taxing burden of shipments from other locations." 

Lord Manderly thought for a moment studying the King and his advisor before most likely deciding he would be far richer with this arrangement then he would with no arrangement. 

"I do love pies these days," he said. "Your grace, really you don't want one?"

"I've heard enough about your pies, my lord," Jon said in all seriousness.

The fat Lord let out a loud laugh. "Ahh, and the Riverlands are better for my pies. I'm sure your Queen would agree. She's of Tully blood as well as Stark."

"I know my Queen's blood," Jon leaned forward. "And she prefers to give her pies to wolves."

"Well..yes.." Lord Manderly stuttered not sure if the King was japing with him or threatening. 

"My lord, I think we want no trouble from the Riverlands or any other lands," Lord Davos said attempting to smooth over Jon's harshness. "Winter has come as the Starks say. We must work together."

Jon glanced at Lord Davos, "There is none that would like vengeance more than me except for my Queen. I promise you that, my lords." Jon could see the uncertainty on both men's faces. _Good,_ he thought. _Let them be uncertain._  

 "There is a far greater threat coming for us all." Jon reminded them.  

"Ah, yes, your grace," the fat Lord agreed.  "It would do well to note, there is troubling news to the south. Rumors that Cersei will give a Lordship for Sansa Stark's head." 

"Any who try won't live long enough to make a claim,"

"Of course, of course,"  Lord Manderly said. Lord Davos looked at the floor with a nervous. "When spring comes if the Lions try to march on us. We'll be ready for them."

"We must survive winter first," Jon said to him. "I speak of the threat to the North. In spring we can talk of vengeance. We'll need your swords no matter the season." 

"Of course, your grace," Lord Manderly said. "You'll have 'em."

"House Stark is grateful for your loyalty, my lord," Jon said to him. Staring at him cooly. 

"The North Remembers, your grace, always,"

"And one day mayhaps, I'll give ya the vengeance ya seek," he replied. 

Lord Manderly finished his ale and pies while talking of his ships and swords. Jon thought the moon would rise again before they would have a chance to take their leave of the gigantic Lord. 

It would take two full days to confirm the details of all the shipments White Harbour would receive. Lady Dayne had laid impressive groundwork for the trades to take place. _Someone in Essos will get very rich off this. All because a Dornish Lady wants a little land for the bastard babe she got with Lord Reed._ Sansa claims it's more than land she wants. The influence that comes from supporting an alliance, the power for House Dayne, a seat on the next King or Queen's small council, she wants all that and more according to his Queen. _Isn't it what they all want._

Once all was completed Jon had Lord Davos make the arrangements to leave on the next morning. He was never more anxious to get on with the journey. _The sooner I can return to the North the better._ Jon could feel the weight of his rule bearing down on him. He thought of Sansa now with his child in her belly and the others coming for them. It was almost enough to make him steal away on a horse and ride straight to Winterfell. If they did not need the dragons he would. That night he eased into Ghost and slept beside his Queen. It may be the last night he could spend with her before he was too far away to enter his wolf. 

They boarded the ship as the half moon fell in the sky. The sailors thought there would be light further south. _Maybe_ thought Jon _Maybe there will be light in the south._ They would have to sail near the shore and hope to follow the stars to navigate our way to the next destination. 

"Are you sure about this your grace?" asked Davos. Jon nodded. 

"It will delay our arrival on Dragonstone by at least a week,"

"We planned to stay more than a week in White Harbour," Jon said. "If anyone notices we can say a storm blew us off course."

"Yes, your grace," Davos said before going to speak with the captain, a hardened sailor Davos had chosen for his discretion as much as for his skill. Jon watched him tell the man to set a course for Gulltown. 

As the ship left the harbour, Jon stood on the deck staring out ahead of them holding the sword Dawn in his hands with Longclaw strapped to his back. He thought he had been too cold to Lord Manderly. Sansa would have scolded him for that. It made no difference Lord Too-Fat would be far richer at the end of this than at the beginning. Jon knew that the Lord would remember that as much as the North Remembers anything. He knew the Lord wanted his vengeance, too. _All the gold in the world will not bring his son back. Just like it won't bring back my dead. Or what they took from me when they killed me. What the Lannisters and that bastard of Bolton took from my Queen._  

"Your grace," Davos said returning to the King's side. Jon turned toward him the shadows written on his face. "The pain you carry...the heavy burdens, from the love you bear."

"What do you know of my pain?" he said his words cutting the air. 

"Nothing, your grace," he said. "Only of my own. And that it is worth it. It is always worth it."

The frigid salt water sprayed his face, Jon clenched his gloved hands. The ship sailed through the Bite in the darkness toward the open sea. 


	4. Brienne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne hates the cold. She is ever the loyal servant to Queen Sansa.
> 
> "She never had brothers or sisters, well she had but they died in their cradles. She would never know what it was to care for a little brother, to want to keep him safe. But I know what it is to want to keep your King or Queen safe. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot of dialogue in this chapter. Wanted to establish a few things and doing that through Brienne's eyes is always fun! She is so loyal but at the same time deep down inside is a bit like 'WTF Sansa...you're really make my job protecting you harder.'

**Brienne**

The little girl swung her mace at Brienne just missing her leg. Thank goodness it was a blunted mace made for training in the yard. The real thing may have coast the lady Knight half her leg.  The little bear was becoming a better fighter every day. She still preferred her mace to a sword or bow and arrow. The large Wildling commander had helped teach her wrestling techniques before he had gone with the king to Castle Black. 

The other children that had been brought within Winterfell's walls also trained with Lady Lyanna Mormont. Half a dozen wildling children and as many Northern joined them each sunless morning. The bonfires and torches lit the yard as they practiced under a winter sky that only changed from dark to not so dark. Even the girls had been commanded to learn some form of fighting. If anything they would at the very least be able to shoot a crossbow with some accuracy. The Queen also decided they would learn their letters, history, sums, and songs. By and large, needlework was the least favorite of almost all. Brienne laughed but saw the value in even the clumsiest boy being able to mend their own shirt. 

It had fallen to Brienne to train the children. She had been named a temporary Mistress-at-Arms. They still had other positions to fill at Winterfell. A captain of the guard would be needed. There were few deemed loyal enough for the positions. 

Brienne felt the boy's eyes staring down on her from the balcony above the training yard. Bran Stark watched them every morning with a mournful look on his face. _He wants to be down here training with us._

Sansa had Bran a chair with wheels made. One that he could be pushed in. Every morning, he had the young Lady Reed or the Queen or one of Winterfell's servants push him out onto the balcony. 

"Lady Brienne," he called out as she passed by him walking up the stairs to entire the Keep.

"Yes, my lord," she said bowing to him. 

"You trained well today," 

"Thank you,"

"I need your help," he said not meeting her eyes. The young Prince clutched the armrests of his chair. 

"Of course, your grace," Brienne said. 

"I want to fight," he said. 

"My Prince.." Brienne started to say. She did not want to be disrespectful. The idea of Brandon Stark fighting seemed impossible. Even if it were possible, Brienne could not imagine the King or Queen allowing it. 

"On horseback," he said. "There is a way to make a saddle for me."

"I could wield a sword or carrying a bow," he continued. "I will need training."

"And if you were to fall, your grace? Your sister would never forgive me," Brienne told the boy.

"It's not her decision," he told Brienne. "She treats me like...like a baby. I'm almost a man grown. I've to be able to fight."

"Yes, your grace," Brienne said. 

"The saddle will be ready tomorrow," he added. "After you finish with the children. We can train. Lady Meera will help."

"Yes, your grace," she said bowing to him as she walked into the keep. Turning down the hall that led to the rooms, the Queen used as her solar. She never had brothers or sisters, well she had but they died in their cradles. She would never know what it was to care for a little brother, to want to keep him safe. _But I know what it is to want to keep your King or Queen safe._ The Queen had thought her family all but lost now she had her King and her little brother. Brienne could understand why his sister wanted to try and keep Bran safe. 

Lord Nestor Royce was walking quickly away from the door of Sansa's solar. Brienne had taken very little notice of him until recently. He had come to Winterfell with Lord Baelish and the Knights of the Vale, mostly keeping to their company. It seemed to Brienne that the Queen had taken very little notice of him as well. The King and Queen had given him the task to take a third of the Vale forces back to Moat Cailin along with Lord Reed. Now that a blizzard three days past had delayed their departure, the Queen seemed more in need of him. 

When Brienne entered the room, Sansa was standing near an open window, her cheeks bright red from the frigid air blowing into the room. _Ice flows through her veins._ The great white direwolf was curled in the corner of the room. 

"My Queen is it healthy to have the window open in your condition," Brienne asked. She thought she saw a flash of coldness pass across the Queen's face. It was very early in her pregnancy. To Brienne, Sansa looked no different than she had before she was with child. True, she slept more often and her complexion had a slight warmth to it. Other than that, she looked the same as she always had. _Regal, beautiful, and hauntingly sad._  

"My lady Brienne, a child of winter needs the cold," Sansa said with a forced kindness. Since the king had left it is the Queen that has been cold despite the glow the pregnancy gave her. With her brother returned and the children, she tries to be warm. Putting on a smile for a time, using the kindest words. Shutting the window, Sansa moved towards a chair placed near the hearth. 

"It's still strange to be back in Winterfell. Ramsey kept me confined to a room," she started to tell Brienne. _The Queen's thoughts come and go. Sometimes, she is here other times she is with ghosts or worse._ Brienne shuddered to think what worse could be. 

"It has been more than half a year since the battle. Yet, I see things," shaking her head, "No remember them." 

"Castle walls have hundreds of years of stories," Brienne replied. 

"Bran perched on this chair. We had been fighting Arya and I. Jon was there. We had broken mirror." she remembered running her hands along the back of the chair. 

"Four northern children in one room, my Queen. Your lady mother was lucky the only thing broken was a mirror."

Sansa gave a slight laugh then said, "A broken mirror is seven years bad luck."

"An old tale," Brienne said. 

"An old tale that came true, eventually," Sansa said. "Arya decided we should play a game. Hunting monsters or something like that," she continued. "It was a long time ago." 

"Happy memories are something to hold close, your grace. Even monsters can't take those," Brienne did not know what else to say to the Queen, who smiled her sad smile and touched her stomach. 

"Yes, it was so much easier to kill monsters when we were children," she said. "Soon, Lady Brienne, the titan will fall. We must be ready."

"Your grace is it wise to attempt such actions when the King is away. When you are...are with child." The Lady Knight felt, even more, protective of Sansa now. _There are two. And the King is gone. There is no one but me._

"It must be this way," Sansa was the only explanation gave Brienne. 

"Bran has seen Arya, again," she said. Sansa had confided in Brienne that Bran had visions. That when he was North of the wall he had learned to have more visions. "He claims she'll be at Moat Cailin in a moon's turn. It is my hope Lord Reed will escort her to Winterfell."

"That is wonderful news,"

"If it comes to pass," Sansa said. Brienne knew the Queen was skeptical of her younger brother's visions. _She had been doubtful of the wights until one attacked her in the Wolfswood._

There was a knock at the door. Sansa's eyes let Brienne know she should open the door. 

"My Queen," said a man's voice as the door was opened. 

"Lord Baelish," Sansa said. If she was surprised to see Littlefinger, the Queen did not show it. 

"You look well this afternoon," he greeted her. "Lady Brienne," he acknowledged the lady knight with a false smile on his face. 

"Thank you," she said. "Is there something you would like."

"I would wish to speak with you about the division of troops," he stated.

Brienne eyed Littlefinger in his fine long woolen jacket with silk embroidery the inside lined with sable. He wore rings on several fingers. When he entered the room Brienne saw Ghost rise to his feet and begin pacing at the far end of the room. Lord Baelish pretended not to notice the giant wolf.

"Of course my lord," the Queen replied walking back towards the table with a painted top that had her parchments and papers scattered across it. 

"You wish to send another third of my army to the Nightfort," he began. 

Queen Sansa smiled sweetly, _It's her false smile the one she saves for tedious bannerman_. Brienne had learned it well over the past several months.

"Yes, we still intend to send a third of the Vale force to the Nightfort," she repeated his words emphasizing _the Vale_. 

"And how well do you think these men will fair in an even colder place?" he asked her. Brienne had wondered the same question. _Thank the seven I do not have to leave the warm heated walls of Winterfell._

"They are brave men, these Knights of the Vale, my lord," she said feigning shock. "Do you suggest the mountains have not made them strong enough for the North?" Brienne watched Sansa wring her hands and walk towards the window. Ghost moved to stand by her side as she opened the window. The bonfires in the yard below the window gave a low light to the darkness outside. Combined with the candlelight in the room her long auburn tresses shone, reflecting the light. The cold turning her pale skin flushed. She reached for the animal gently petting him behind the ear while she stared at the window.

Brienne watched Littlefinger out of the corner of her eye. His mouth narrowed, "Of course not, my sweet..my Queen," 

"We wish to honor the Vale for their loyalty, my lord," she said. "The Nightfort will be a place for valor in the Great War that is coming for us all."

"A great honor, your grace," Lord Baelish said trying hard to hide his frustration. "As I am sure there will be more."

"More?" she said still facing the window taking in the cold air. 

"Honors, your grace. A trade agreement, mayhaps?" he asked moving closer to her. Brienne placed her hand on her sword. Littlefinger did not pay attention to the lady knight. "It is too bad you are no longer able to make a marriage alliance. Many high lords are very disappointed."

The Queen turned toward him, her blue eyes an icy glare, "Do you speak of the imp or yourself, my lord."

"I only speak generally my Queen," he corrected himself. 

"Good, I would hope the Vale would be most happy for me," 

"Of course, my Queen,"

"As I said, we plan to honor the Vale,"  Sansa stated, sounding almost bored. "When spring comes there will be land and castles in the New Gift."

"And in winter you will need grain and barley," Lord Baelish reminded her. 

"Yes, yes, and that," she smiled. "Do not fret my lord. Many will be richer when Spring comes and the Northern coffers will be lighter."

Lord Baelish nodded. 

"The Maester says the weather will hold for at least a sennight, my lord," she continued. "The men will leave for Moat Cailin on the morrow. The other third must prepare for the Nightfort. I shall leave it to yourself and Lord Royce to decide who shall go. I suggest your hardest, bravest men."

"Yes, your grace," he said. "With your leave?"

Sansa nodded allowing him to leave. Brienne went to hold the door open for him. Closing it, she looked at her Queen, "He is not happy, your grace."

"I know, Lady Brienne," 

"As your sworn sword, I must tell you this is dangerous," she warned. "There must be another way."

Inhaling slowly, Sansa again said, "This is the way."

"Follow me," she said to Brienne. Picking up her heavy cloak that was placed on the back of a chair at the table and throwing in over her shoulders, Sansa walked out of the door not waiting to see if her sworn sword was following her. Brienne hurried behind her along with Ghost. Sansa was headed down the stairs at the end of the hall out of the keep saying not a word. She crossed the yard eventually towards the First Keep only to march past it. The bitter cold was almost too much for Brienne. _Gods, the North is awful in winter._ She pulled her own cloak tight around her watching her Queen let her own cloak hang open as she walked. Stopping in front of the Burnt Tower, Sansa looked up. 

"This was once the highest watchtower in the castle," Sansa told her. "In spring, I'll have it rebuilt." Brienne listened and watched as her Queen circled the tower looking up deep in thought. Commanding Ghost to wait at the broken doorway that served as an entrance to the tower, Sansa went inside. Brienne followed her within and up the broken steps. Three-quarters of the way up, just before the collapsed roof, they stopped. Snow covered the floor and holes in the ceiling let in no light. _There is no light to let in._ She walked to a window carefully taking it in. 

"Yes, this will do," Sansa said suddenly turning on her heel. Brienne could only follow down the winding stairs back out into the yard lit by bonfires and torches. The direwolf waiting for them at the entrance. 

Brienne heard it first, a whizzing sound through the air. Instinctively, she reached for her sword with one hand and her lady with the other pulling Sansa toward her as an arrow lodged into the broken doorframe. Brienne shielded the Queen from the direction of the arrow. Looking up she saw no one on the castle wall. Ghost stood barring his teeth looking in the same direction.

Pulling the Queen behind a wall of the First Keep, they waited. Brienne could hear Sansa's heavy startled breathing. No more arrows came, they could see no one of the battlements. Anger and fear in Sansa's eyes, she stood up walking to the doorway of the Broken Tower, she reached for the arrow and pulled it out of the frame before Brienne could stop her. Defiant she stood staring in the direction that the arrow had come. Without even looking at Brienne she marched back toward the Great Keep.

"My Queen, please you must be careful," Brienne said as she quickly walked to catch up to her. "That was an attempt on your life."

"No, it wasn't," Sansa said.

"It wasn't?" Brienne questioned.

"If they wanted to kill me they would've," her voice ice. "It was a warning. And I mean to warn them back."

Brienne turned taking one last glance at the battlements. She thought she saw the shadow of a dark figure running before disappearing over the far side of the castle wall. A chill much colder than the North ran up her spine. 


	5. Davos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davos and Jon find themselves discussing more than just a trade alliance in Gulltown.
> 
> "The Inn's Tavern was dark, barely lit and barely crowded. The King kept a hood pulled low over his face. He motioned for the woman to step out of the shadows she had been standing in while the negotiations progressed. 'We have come to discuss our alliance not a bastard girl of the Vale.'"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've aged up Robin Arryn from the books. And basically made him more like show!Robin. I think his book storyline is important but him being that young just didn't work for this. Also, I've aged down another character that makes an appearance.
> 
> More notes at the end on this one!

**Davos**

"I want to speak with the girl alone," the king said giving Bronze Yohn Royce and Robin Arryn a long hard glare. The formidable old Lord and young lordling sat across from Jon Snow and Davos at a round oaken table in the far corner of a non-descript Inn's tavern in Gulltown. _A place easily forgotten._   A crescent moon was still rising in the sky. It felt late but it was not. Davos could not remember how long it had been since he had seen anything other than moonlight. 

"As you wish, your grace," Royce replied. "Shall we retire to our rooms, my lord?" He asked turning to the young Lord of the Vale. The boy lord agreed. Davos thought he was no more than 11 at best. _TA child and not robust. Though not as sickly as Lord Baelish would have us believe._

The King continued to watch the pair as they climbed the stairs of the Inn leaving Lord Davos and Jon Snow, the King in the North, with the young woman who was standing in the corner near the table. She had been listening intently as the men spoke. They talked of a trade alliance that would circumvent Lord Baelish, the purpose of the detour to Gulltown. The conversation quickly went from the lowest grain prices to more personal matters. Requests neither Davos nor the King expected.  

The Inn's Tavern was dark, barely lit and barely crowded. The King kept a hood pulled low over his face. He motioned for the woman to step out of the shadows she had been standing in while the negotiations progressed. _We have come to discuss our alliance not a bastard girl of the Vale._

Davos let out a low gasp as she stepped into view. In the candlelight, her short black hair and fierce blue eyes were apparent. In truth, he had not paid any attention to the very young woman when they first arrived at the Inn. It had only been arranged for them to meet with Bronze Yohn Royce and young Robin Arryn. To make the secondary alliance that Littlefinger, Robin Arryn's self-proclaimed guardian and Lord Protector of the Vale would know nothing about. Sansa had sent the ravens herself remembering that Bronze Yohn had once shown her kindness when she was a bastard girl in the Vale. She believed that he would be very happy to assist House Stark and even happier to see Littlefinger's influence wane. In Bronze Yohn Royce, the King found a ready ally. 

They, however, did not anticipate Robin Arryn's dismay at the King in the North's marriage to his cousin. _Queen Sansa had warned us. She said he had entertained the childish hope to marry her when he knew her as the bastard Alayne Stone._ They most certainly did not anticipate what he would demand of them. Legitimizing Alayne Stone's replacement in his fantasies, so Mya Stone could marry the boy lord seemed a simple enough request. Davos assumed she was the offspring of some Royce or another when it was first mentioned.  The moment Davos clearly saw her face he knew it would not be that simple. 

"Sit," Jon Snow told her. "Who are you?" 

"Lord Royce told you," the young woman said defiantly while taking a seat across from the men. "My name's Mya Stone." Lord Royce failed to mention whose bastard she was. 

"Who's daughter are you?" demanded Jon. "Tell us truthfully or I'll not do it."

"I never knew my father's name."

"Forgive me, my lady," Davos started to say.  

"I'm not a lady," she inserted. 

"Aye, but they want you to be one," responded Davos before turning to Jon. "It's not plain who's daughter she is?" 

Jon studied the face taking a long drag of his ale, Davos could not read his expression. _Did he see the resemblance?  He knew Stannis. King Robert had been to Winterfell. The eyes were the same. Those striking blue eyes. The face, too._

"If you're not a Baratheon then I'm not a smuggler out of Flea Bottom," Lord Davos finally said. Mya Stone only stared back. 

"I've heard the rumors," she responded. 

"My Lady, ya aren't the only one. Not the only child Robert Baratheon sired. And the others are men," he said carefully. "If his grace were to legitimize all Baratheon bastards it could cause a bit of a problem, you see."

Jon slammed down his drink, "Ah Davos speak plainly," he said. Directing his attention to Mya Stone he asked, "Do you wish to sit on the Iron Throne?"

"HA!" the woman said loudly. "My father left me. He cared nothing for me. Why would I want his old iron chair."

Davos scanned the room, "My lady, even dark quiet inns' have ears," he reminded her. 

"Did I want my crown?" Jon asked her in a low growl. "Sometimes others want you to have it more."

"And you think Lord Royce and Sweet Robin Arryn want to put me on the pointy chair the way Sansa put that crown on you?"

"Mayhaps," he said leaning over his ale. "We already have two queens fighting for it. We don't need three."

"Two queens and a king, you mean," Mya Stone corrected the King. _She is fierce_ thought Davos. 

"Hmmph," guffawed the king ignoring her assertion that he too wanted the Iron Throne. _Does he, though. Does he want that chair? Does Sansa want it for him?_

 "Is it Storm's End that they want ya to claim?" the king asked her. 

"Lord Arryn wants to stay in the Vale. Lord Royce wants to be rid of Littlefinger," she said. "That is why they want this."

"And what do you want?"

"Nothing of my father's," she said then pausing to think for a moment placing her hands on the table. They were worn and calloused from work. "When spring comes I want to go back to the mountain, my mountain. To spend my life at the Eyrie."

"Spoken like a true lady of the Vale," Lord Davos said. For all her sternness, he could see Mya Stone shed a soft smile. 

"That is all I want," she said again in a whisper."Mountains never leave you." 

"He's still a boy?" Jon said softening his tone and filling a tankard with ale for the young woman. "And you're a young woman. Older than my Queen or even myself." 

"Yes," she agreed, taking the ale. "Does it matter? He'll be of age soon enough and I'll still be young enough to give him children." Davos thought now she sounded almost sheepish. 

"Lord Robyn, he's happy with this?" Davos asked sensing it was another question the King wanted answering. 

Mya Stone thought long before answering. "He was very alone once his Lady Mother died and was very taken with Alayne, I mean Sansa..Queen Sansa," she said referring to Sansa's time being forced to pose as Littlefinger's bastard daughter. 

"When she left, he turned towards me. Only the seven know why but he did. I admit at first I was harsh. Sansa was always good with him. Not me." Davos notice the king's eyes narrow at this.   

"He was very upset when he heard that you married her, your grace," she added. "I told him to stop crying that he was a Lord and to find another Lady. After that well..."

The king leaned back in his chair to finish his ale. The three sat not saying anything more until the king putting down his tankard said, "Fine."

Adding, "Davos, bring me some parchment and ink. And bring our good friend Lord Royce back down here. Seems we have a marriage contract to draw up."

Looking at Mya Stone, "You'll renounce your claim to the Iron Throne as a condition of your legitimacy and your marriage to Robin Arryn." Mya Stone nodded. "It'll be done tonight." 

"And Lady Baratheon, you'll declare for House Stark." 

Mya Stone stared back at him wide-eyed and nodded. She did expect to be a married lady by morning betrothed perhaps but not married thought Davos. 

Bronze Yohn rejoined the group as they drew up the contract in the back of the Inn's Tavern. Most of the patrons had retired to their rooms or left for the night. They had seemed unconcerned by the men at the table in the far corner. Davos noticed that Mya Stone sat silent through it all. _Resigned to her fate perhaps._  He wondered if she could truly want to marry the boy lord. It would be many years before he would old enough to be a proper husband and he would never be a robust one.

Two written contracts were signed in that tavern. The first making Mya Stone, Lady Baratheon, the only current heir to Storm's End. The next gave her hand in marriage to Lord Robert Arryn, Warden of the East and Lord of the Vale. The task then fell to Lord Royce and Lord Davos to find a septon to marry the pair. The king continued to refuse to sign the papers unless the pair were married that very night. 

The nearest sept was a small stone building two streets from the inn. It took longer than Davos would have liked to wake the septon, a middle-aged man with a tired friendly face. He was not inclined to marry anyone in the dead of night but when he saw the generous donation Bronze Yohn would make to his sept, the man re-considered. 

Upon returning to the inn, the third contract was not written but agreed upon between the lords and the King. Grain from Lord Royce's Rhunestone granaries would find it's way to White Harbour and into the North. Barley would be sent to Eastwatch-By-The-Sea for the Night's Watch. Davos knew none of this would be recorded. And all would be had for lower prices than the ones Lord Baelish was offering the North. They would come on dark ships on moonless nights before being allocated to the various castle and keeps in the North. 

When all the contracts we signed and sealed. Mya Stone went to her room in the inn to change. A dark velvet navy dress with delicate silver stitches on the sleeves had been found. It was almost too short for the tall woman. Despite that, she looked the part of an elegant lady. She had nothing with a stag on it. Davos thought it did not matter. Robyn Arryn had the cloak he was wearing lined with sable and embroidered with falcons to place over her shoulders. 

The solemn group walked to the small sept where the septon was waiting. Davos heard the king ask Lord Royce of his cousin the other Lord Royce. It had been decided that the newly minted Lady Baratheon would be given away by Bronze Yohn. The King worried this would upset Lord Nestor Royce, the protector of the Gates of the Moon, whom she had been in service too. Bronze Yohn only laughed asking the king who he thought had first suggested the marriage. 

"Littlefinger forgets that once people have what they want they no longer need him," Bronze Yohn said. _That is very much true._ Davos noticed the King become even sterner at this revelation. Nestor Royce is at Winterfell with the Vale forces. He always appeared quite loyal to Lord Baelish. The Queen's hand is in this and the King knows it.  

They reached the dimly lit sept. Candles under each alter of the seven. Paintings to represent the gods. If the septon recognized his liege lord, he said nothing. The vows were said quickly. The young lord of the Vale mumbled only slightly when he place his cloak over Mya Stone's shoulders. She forced herself to give him a kind smile. Davos did not think either looked happy but they did not look miserable either. Following the ceremony, Bronze Yohn escorted the pair back to the Inn. The King and Davos followed behind them. Taking their time to walk the streets of Gulltown. Davos noticed that at times the King liked to walk under the cold moonlight. The Queen does the same, he noticed while at Winterfell. Taking a longer route they eventually returned to the Inn, where they had also decided to take rooms for the night. 

"Your grace, it is one thing to smuggle a bit of grain out of Rhunestone. This, this thing with Robin Arryn and the Baratheon girl," Davos began to say as they reached the front of the Inn.

"Don't say it, my lord." the King said entering the Inn's tavern. "I'm well aware this may be the stupidest thing I've agreed to since they put a crown on my head." Davos heard movement to the side of them. Instinctively he reached for his sword. Jon Snow did the same. 

"Your grace," a voice called out from the shadows, Jon and Davos turned to see the Robin Arryn looking at them. "I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for helping me. For helping us."

 Davos and Jon looked at each other and relaxed their stance. They saw that Mya Stone was with the young Lord. They had been sitting at a table sharing a tankard of ale. _Celebrating their sad wedding._

Robin Arryn continued, "I'll never be... as stron...strong...as others. But I've gotten better since Lord Baelish left. Mya, she helps me," he added giving the woman next to him a smile.  "At first she was not so kind but it's just her way." 

"She is a fine woman, my lord," Davos said. 

"I would like her to go with you to Dragonstone," he told them. "To represent me before the Dragon Queen."

"The Vale is declared for House Stark there is no need for her to go," Jon said to him.

"Might it be better if she stays with you?" Davos added. 

Robyn Arryn, "I don't want her to go. But someone from the Vale must see the dragons."

Davos looked at Jon, who seemed to be mulling over the idea. He had no reason to agree to take the young woman along. "We return to our ship the day after tomorrow at first tide," Jon said. "Lady Baratheon can join us."

"Your grace, it is Lady Arryn, now," Mya Stone said to the men. Davos thought he saw the boy lord smile.  

The king headed toward the stairs, turning back to see Davos' confused look, he said. "My Queen doesn't get to make all the plans and not tell me. Sansa wants a new Lady Arryn and the new Lady Arryn wants to see dragons."

Davos watched the King disappear up the stairs deciding to join the young couple at their table. The least he could do was buy them a tankard of ale on their wedding night. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes on this chapter. I was not expecting this at all! This was not in the outline. It came about because I felt that Jon and Davos needed a female character with them on their journey to Dragonstone. At the same time, I wanted to up the stakes for the meeting in Gulltown. When I pushed myself to think about making this happen the whole story and plot against LF opened up in a really unexpected way. 
> 
> And doing this let me introduce a character I really liked from the books and wish was in the show. Let's be clear Mya/Robyn are not a couple I ship at all. Sometimes things just happen. And I don't know what this means for having Gendry make an appearance which was in the plans. Anyways, I hope people aren't too weirded out by them together in this sorta arranged age-inappropriate marriage.


	6. Alayaya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alayaya has spent her life working at her mother's brothel in King's Landing. Once again the ladies of Chataya's establishment are being dragged into the fray. 
> 
> "It was not the first time that politics entered the pillow house nor would it be the last. Her mother pretended they were above it all. 'We are not. We wade in the swamp with the rest of them.'"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an unexpected chapter. I wanted to show King's Landing from another perspective. It is definitely not the focus of this story. But what happens there effects Jon and Sansa...I hope ya'll don't mind the detour. A Sansa chapter is coming up next.

**Alayaya**

Alayaya had noticed the golden-haired man with a deep burgundy cloak pulled over his shoulders, in the back of the room. He looked oddly familiar as if she had seen him before. Feeling a poke in her back, she heard her mother say, "Yaya, don't stare. Ask him what he prefers."

It was unlike her to need to be prodded to speak to a man in the brothel. The young woman, born in the Summer Islands, had worked for her mother since shortly after she flowered. _How many years was it now? Five maybe six? It was still summer when her maidenhead was sold. The fat old king was still alive and one of their best patrons._ Times had never been so flush as then. True, the brothel still did well. Even in winter people would pay for sex. The war, the faith, and now the weather were slowly taking their toll. Her mother was taking fewer new girls and not replacing the ones that left. 

Walking towards the man's table while her mother returned to her solar, Alayaya asked, "My lord, does something entice you?" He had been absentmindedly staring at a couple in the corner. A middle-aged knight with Dancy another of the girls Chataya employed perched coyly on his lap. Her hands nimbly rubbing the hard cock between his legs. 

"I'm waiting for someone," he said avoiding her eyes.

"We're all waiting for someone. Can I help you find them?" she asked again in her smoothest voice.

"You can bring me some wine," he requested still not looking at her. Dancy had moved to straddling the knight who had pulled out one of her breasts and was sucking loudly on the nipple. 

"Of course," Alayaya said not showing any annoyance. Men could be odd when they entered a brothel. Some lusty barely able to keep their hands to themselves. Others ashamed and hesitant. It made no difference to her. There was no shame in bodies. _The gods had fashioned us for love, had they not?_

When she returned with the wine, another man had joined the first. This second man Alayaya knew. She knew him very well. His name was Bronn, an up jumped sellsword, she had had the pleasure of entertaining once or twice. She thought if he could become a Lord, she could become a lady. Her mother laughed at that when she told her, pointing out that maybe in Dorne a Lord would overlook the dark skin of a Summer Islander but this was King's Landing. When she retorted asking why they were not running a brothel in Dorne, Chataya only laughed harder asking if her daughter would rather be a poor Lady or a rich Whore. 

"Ahh, the beautiful Yaya," Bronn greeted her. "I see ya've met his lordship, Jaime fuckin' Lannister."

"We've met," she smiled hiding her fear and anger. "He did not give me his name." So, this was the infamous Kingslayer up close, she thought. She had only seen him from a distance riding through the streets on his white horse clean shaven with golden locks. This man had a close shaved beard and short hair. It was another Lannister that had had her whipped for a sin she did not commit. 

"Seems, he'd like to speak with ya mother," Bronn told her.

"My mother does not take clients, my lord," Alayaya reminded him. _Especially not Lannister clients_. The Lannister that had ordered her beating was dead now. She wondered to herself if this one even knew that the former Hand of the King had her beaten because he supposed she was Lord Tyrion's whore.  

"Ah, he only fucks one woman," Bronn said. "And only wants to fuck one other. They both happen to be blond."  Alayaya saw Jaime Lannister narrow his eyes at the sellsword made lord. 

"Alright, then, I'll tell her you're here," she said. Going to her mother's private rooms, she gave a quick knock before hearing her mother begging her to enter. Telling her there was a Lannister man to see her, Chataya, looked only mildly surprised then bid them to be sent in. Lord Tyrion had not been welcome in the brothel after, the discovery of the secret tunnel and Alayaya's beating. Lord Tyrion had been long gone from King's Landing. He killed the Hand, his father, that had her beaten. Mayhaps her mother had forgiven him. She certainly drank enough wine after hearing the news of the Hands death. 

The room was luxurious with heavy dark velvet curtains, Chataya had hung for winter, a fire blazing in the hearth, plush chaise lounges for reclining, and an ornate table with a flask of Dornish Red. Her mother ruled the brothel from this room. This afternoon she was in deep sapphire and gold gown of woolen silk. Alayaya always thought her mother beautiful. Alayaya guided the men into the room, where Chataya offered them carved mahogany chairs. 

"Please sit, my lords, it is an honor to have the Lord Commander, Ser Jaime Lannister visit us," she said in the same smooth voice her daughter used. "Ser Bronn or are you a Lord now? We are happy to see you again."

"Not a Lord, yet," Bronn said eyeing Jaime Lannister, who looked as if he didn't believe Chataya's words. 

"Yaya, please pour our guests some wine," she called to her daughter just as Alayaya was about to leave. The look her mother gave her meant, she preferred that she stay and hear what their guests had to say. 

"Do I dare assume, you have not come to see about my girls or ask how business is?" Chataya said. 

"No, we have not," Jaime responded. Chataya waited for him to speak while Alayaya poured the wine.

"You knew my brother?" he continued. 

"Yes, he was a good patron of ours, for a time," she smiled. Bronn gave a muffled laugh. Jaime looked annoyed. "I will not lie. He brought hardship here."

"It seems he has turned up in Dragonstone."

"With the Dragon Queen?.." Alayaya started to blurt out.

Her mother shot her a look, "My daughter forgets herself.  She means to ask if he is with this False Queen?"

Jaime ignored the comment, "We know what she is called," he said. "I want to send him a message."

"Surely, you have ravens for that, my lord," Chataya said. 

"If I know my brother, I think he would much prefer a whore," Jaime told her. 

Chataya inhaled deeply. Alayaya knew her mother did not want to get involved with whatever the Lannister man was asking. She had no love for Queen Cersei, no one did. But it would be idiocracy to go against her. Nor would she want to take such a risk to help Lord Tyrion. The mother still remembered Alayaya's scars maybe more than Alayaya did. Chataya stared at the man for ages sipping her wine. 

"What is it you ask of us?" 

"I think you know," he said. 

"My ladies make poor envoys, my lord," 

"I beg to disagree," he said. "What army doesn't love a few whores?"

Chataya shared another look with her daughter. "The ladies that work here are not camp followers. We serve Lords, knights, merchants."

Jaime Lannister took the time to consider Chataya and her daughter. He laid a golden hand on the desk. It was the first time he brought the hand out from underneath his heavy cloak. 

"My brother, knows you? Doesn't he?" Jaime asked looking at Alayaya who nodded touching the sapphire necklace that hung around her neck. She had never bed him, only helped him when he went to visit Shae. It cost her a beating when the Queen had mistakenly told their lord father that he had been seeing her. To add insult to injury, Shae had betrayed him and that if rumors were true he had killed her when he found her in his father's bed. 

"I want to make my brother a peace offering," he said. "Cersei will never agree. But if I can get him to understand. To come see me."

"What you ask is treason, my lord," Chataya sounded shocked. "My daughter still bears the scars from the last time we assisted your brother,"

"So not the first time your brothel has been involved in treason?" Jaime said. "Imagine what else my dear sister may think you assisted my brother with."

Alayaya knew her mother would not take kindly to being threatened. And she knew Jaime Lannister was correct. It was not the first time that politics entered the pillow house nor would it be the last. Her mother pretended they were above it all. _We are not._   _We wade in the swamp with the rest of them._ Her body still bore the results of that. 

"I'll go, mother," Alayaya blurted out. _This was her chance. Her chance to leave King's Landing. To be something more than a whore in her mother's house._

"Daughter, you're here to serve wine to our guests," Chataya reminded her. 

"And offer my services. Is this not a service?" she asked. Chataya glared at her daughter. Alayaya pretended not to notice. Touching the necklace again, she added "My lords, I would be happy to assist you. Barring my mother and yourselves can come to a favorable agreement."

"I'm sure we can," Jaime finally smiled at Alayaya. Turning back to Chataya, "There is something else."

Chataya inhaled deeply, "Yes...?"

"How do your whores feel about the cold?" he asked. Even Bronn shifted uncomfortably, now. 

Shaking her head, "We do not like it. Not at all, my lord. Not at all."

"hmm...that's too bad." Now Jaime got up from his chair to stand closer to the hearth. "The little she-wolf has resurfaced at Winterfell." Everyone already knew that. They were careful not to speak too loudly of it but all of King's Landing had heard the songs of the red she-wolf and her half-brother, the white wolf, retaking their home. It was as if Aemon the Dragonknight and Queen Naerys had come again. Alayaya loved to hear the songs when singers were brave enough to sing them. More recent songs even claimed the white wolf was not a wolf at all but a dragon in disguise. Alayaya loved to hear the songs when singers were brave enough to sing them. 

"We've heard," Chataya replied. 

"And you have heard how her bastard brother calls himself, King in the North," he turned to look at them. "And you'll have heard how he made the she-wolf his Queen. Beds her like she's a kitchenmaid, they say." There was something in Jaime Lannister's voice. Alayaya thought she heard jealously. _He loved his sister._ They had heard those rumors, too. 

"It would be near impossible to get to Winterfell now that winter is here. They say the North has not had light for two turns of the moon. It would be...it would be death.." Chataya said to the lord. 

Jaime shook his head, "Yes...yes..it would be a waste to go all the way to Winterfell."

Alayaya saw that her mother looked relieved. No amount of money could convince even a whore to go that far North in the dead of winter. 

Bronn chimed in, "Traders still go to White Harbor to feed that fat lord." 

Walking back to the table where Chataya sat, Jaime Lannister leaned in close. "That red she-wolf needs to know that Cersei'll find a way to drag her back to King's Landing to put her head on a spike. She's already sent people." 

"What makes you thinks I can get her this message? " Chataya asked.

"You haven't sent whores to White Harbor?"

"That was a long time ago,"

"Not so long ago that you don't have friends," he said. "Contact them. Make sure Sansa Stark's Lady Knight gets the message."

"And once this message gets to White Harbor. How will we ensure it gets to Winterfell?"

"You're a smart woman you'll find a way." He said to Chataya, who only sighed. 

"And for my mother's trouble, my lord?" Alayaya dared asked. 

"I'll see Cersei doesn't test wildfire on your fine establishment," he growled. "And if you're successful you might be able to convince my brother to find some up jumped knight to marry you."

"My mother says gold is preferable to husbands," she responded. 

Both men laughed at that. "I'll let you pick your poison then." Jaime Lannister took a long look at Alayaya. Her fine cheekbones. Her skin a lighter brown than her mother's. Her features different too, more like the man who must have been her father. She thought she saw a look of curiosity pass over Jaime Lannister's face. Turning to Bronn, "Shall we?" he said.  We've taken enough of these fine ladies time."

"Well, seeing as our business is done. Wouldn't mind this one keeping me company." Bronn said pointing to Alayaya. Chataya gave him her falsest smile.

"Today, my ser, that will be double. I'm sure your lord has the gold," Chataya answered.  Bronn shrugged at Jaime who waved his hand at the sellsword. 

'Do what you want," he dismissed. "The ship leaves on the morrow. Make sure you're ready," he told Alayaya and stormed out of the room. 

Chataya turning toward Bronn, "And you better make sure your Lord Lannister always pays his debts."

Alayaya led Bronn to an upstairs room where she enjoyed pleasuring him. Her mind full of excitement for the trip. Since her birth in King's Landing, she had never left. The farthest she had ever gone were pleasure trips to the Kingswood. 

After Bronn left the brothel, her mother gave her the rest of the night off to prepare her things. She would take a small trunk with only her warmest clothing. What need would see have of light summer silks? 

The moon was low in the sky when Bronn and a Lannister squire returned to the brothel with the scroll for Lord Tyrion. They offered to escort Alayaya to the trading ship that would take her to the island. Accepting their offer, she thanked them for their trouble. Chataya had risen to see her off. She held a something in her arms as she approached her daughter. It was a deep burgundy woolen cloak edged in a black sable and a pair of black fur-lined leather gloves. 

Alayaya saw tears in her mother's eyes when Chataya hugged her goodbye. Walking toward the harborfront with Bronn, she did not look back. For a moment, she thought she should feel sad or worried or even fearful. All she could feel was anticipation for the adventure ahead. Mayhaps, she would even see dragons. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't want to see dragons??? At this point, every character in my story going to Dragonstone is just going to see dragons...lol. Except maybe Jon but he's on the no fun express right now ;-)


	7. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Long Night continues along with Jon and Sansa's separation. Despite the distance, their plans are moving forward. Sansa tries to put on a brave face for those around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on writing as quickly as I can! I really want to get to the part where Sansa and Jon are back in the same place. But a few things have to happen first!

**Sansa**

Sansa was walking in the Godswood in the light of the rising crescent moon, Ghost was padding along behind her. The hoot of a snowy owl, Alysanne, her owl, could be heard from high in the trees. The words played over and over again in her mind. 

_The seven won't save us_   
_So we pray to the old gods_   
_Of the rivers and lakes  
Of caves and trees_

_They smile on the wolves...  
As winter comes_

No, _They smile on winter's wolves_..yes something like that she thought working out the verse in her mind. She touches her stomach, it is starting to show a small bump underneath the folds of her gown or maybe she is imagining a bump was there.  Lady Dayne was what help she could be in offering advice. Telling her when she might notice changes. Sansa had still not gone to the Maester. Though, if the odd looks he was giving her were any indication, he suspected her condition. Sansa cursed herself for not paying close enough attention. She truly was not sure when she might have conceived. In her bed, while she avoided sleep, she thought over each time she and Jon had laid in each other's arms after she stopped taking moon tea.  Still, she was not sure which time it had been. 

Had it been one morning in the days following the Winter Lights Feast? A morning when she wrapped her legs around his waist because she wanted to hold him. Or the time after a council meeting when she stayed behind in his solar after the others left. He bolted the door before pushing her towards the table and lifting her skirts. He knelt before her first pressing his tongue between her legs until she was moaning. Then he slid his cock inside her until he was moaning too. Or maybe it was the time after she woke in the middle of the night from another dream. He held her wiping the tears from her eyes. They made love in silence that night. She supposed there was no way of knowing which moment made their baby. Only that the baby was made. 

 Sansa stopped walking near the heart tree. The snow was not deep beneath the ancient weirwood and there was a place for her to sit on the roots of the tree. Feeling the need to rest she sat under the tree that still had red leaves. The face carved into the tree stared at her. Bran told the tree saw things, anything that was done in front of it. The tree saw. Then the tree saw her marriage to Jon. The night they said their vows together. 

Sansa touched the face of the tree. If only he could stand in front of another tree where ever he was at the same time as she. There were no weirwoods in the south. No way for her to reach him. Even now he was too far from Ghost to slip inside his skin in the night, in his dreams. Bran had told Sansa that was what was happening when they dreamt of their wolves. That they, Starks, could slip into their animals skin. They could become one with their animals.  _Except my wolf died long ago_. It scared her at first when he put words to what she had felt when she dreamt of her dead wolf or now of Alysanne. 

In the Godswood the cold does not go as deep into your bones as other parts of the castle. The steam rises up from the hot springs giving an eerie warmth to the darkness. Ghost paces nearby, he seems anxious. Her owl Alysanne is circling high in the dark sky. She pulls the tip of an arrow out of an inner pocket of her heavy wool cloak with the fur lining. The cloak that matches Jon's. She wonders if he needs his in the south. 

She looks for clues on the arrow. Something that might tell her who sent it. It was made from weirwood with a dragon glass tip. There is nothing more, it is a simple arrowhead that nearly missed her. _Was meant to nearly miss her._ Brienne had wanted Sansa to write to the King about the incident. Sansa refused. There was no sense in worrying him when he was so far away. She thought longer, he had told her about weirwood and dragonglass. Something about fighting the others. Sighing she put the arrowhead back in her pocket. 

From a distance, she saw her Lady Knight's squire, Podrick Payne approaching her, "My...ah my ...my Queen," he said handing her a message avoiding her eyes. The boy still had trouble remembering to call her Queen. Sansa gave him a kind smile when she thanked him. Noticing that he had grown recently becoming more muscular. She thought that Brienne may make a knight of him yet. He shuffled his feet awkwardly waiting for her to tell him whether to stay or go. She urged him to run along back to Brienne, who was no doubt nearby. Sansa's lady knight was always nearby these days. Watching, waiting, protecting her. 

Looking at the seal, Sansa saw a ship with onions on the sail. _Lord Davos_  . His seal always made her smile, perhaps he was mocking sigils with his onions. Or mayhaps he was declaring his truth. The truth that he saved Storm's End by smuggling onions and fish into the castle when it was under siege during Robert's Rebellion. Now, he was helping Sansa and Jon smuggle food from the Vale to Winterfell doing their best to avoid Lord Baelish's ever watchful eye. Sansa wondered if that was even possible. _How long until Littlefinger discovered their plan?_ Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, she broke the seal and read the message. 

_My Queen,_   the letter began. It told of how they had arrived in Dragonstone with an addition to their party. Mya Stone, the new Lady Arryn, had joined the group. Sansa was surprised by this at first. _Of course, Mya would want to go with them._ Davos warned her that the King was not exactly pleased with the marriage he was forced to make between Robin Arryn and Mya Stone. He believed Sansa's hand was in it and was quite sour about that. Sansa smiled to herself when she read the line. All had gone as planned in Gulltown. _Better than planned._ Mya Stone and Sweet Robin were truly married. Sansa had only hoped for a betrothal, Mya's legitimatization, and Jon's approval. Lord Baelish's influence on the boy lord of the Vale would soon be waning.  

Davos went on to talk of their arrival on the ancient island. Lord Tyrion had met them as they disembarked the ship. The imp had been kind to her when she was forced to marry him in King's Landing. Sansa was barely of age and now it seemed so long ago. _Yes, he was kind,_ she thought.   _A kind jailer is still a jailer._ He did little to help her preferring to dream of a day she might decide to let him touch her. In that, she felt sorry for him. 

It was the end of Davos' letter that sent chills down her back. He talked of a whore that arrived from King's Landing two days after them. This woman, who knew Lord Tyrion, came bearing a message from Jaime Lannister. When she heard that the King in the North was also on the island, she asked to give a message to him as well, a warning. It seemed that Cersei was now actively trying to kill her. 

_I can not escape her. Even in my own home,_ Sansa thought. _Things have changed Cersei Lannister._ _She was the red wolf not some easily cowed little dove_. Davos told her the King was concerned for her safety. Though, neither knew how real to believe the threat. _The threat is real._ Finishing the letter, Sansa thought it was time to find Lady Dayne. She would want to hear that Jon had arrived at Dragonstone and she would be especially interested to know that their plans were further along than expected.  

Crossing the castle grounds to return to the Great Keep with the animals following, Sansa noticed the figure of a small man approaching her. In his heavy fine woolen jacket lined in sable and shiny silver clasps, Lord Baelish was elegant even in the harsh Northern winter. He, of course, stopped to speak with her. 

"Hello, your grace," he said bowing his head ever so slightly. "I would say good afternoon but it seems we have not had day for some time."

Sansa resisted the urge to look up at the dark sky. It was afternoon only because the moon was still raising. The beginning of the third moon's turn and still light had not returned to the North. Every day, every night, Sansa wore her bravest face. The castle was warm from the hot springs. They lit bonfires and candles to light the darkness. They were of this land, they would survive. She could not say the same for Lord Baelish. 

"The Long Night is still upon us, my lord. Are you afraid?" she asked. 

He smiled, "Of course not. We are well prepared. They say in the south there is still some light."

"Mayhaps, the south would be in need of you, my lord," she suggested. 

He laughed. "Trying to send me away?"

"Of course not, my lord. It is much more valuable for us to have you near," she said. "Winter is a perilous time."

"Yes, it is. It would be a shame if the Night's Watch's debts were called in at such a time, your grace. The King did put his name to them? Did he not?" Lord Baelish asked.

_Seven hells, this man._ Sansa squeezed her hands together underneath her cloak. _We know the game you play with the Iron Bank,_ she wanted to scream. Instead, she held her tongue for the thousandth time. 

"That would be unfortunate. I'm sure the Iron Bank would want the North to survive the winter. Spring will refill everyone's coffers." Sansa attempted to assure him. 

"And when will spring come, your grace?" he asked. "How long shall we wait? 2 years? 3? longer?"

"The Starks have always survived," she said. 

"Kings could freeze in their castles, your grace."

"Good thing we have dragons in Westeros again," she said walking away from the Lord. Holding back not trying to walk away too quickly. He can not see her anxious. Not for the first time, Sansa wonders if the arrow was sent by his order. Brienne who had been standing off in the distance caught up with her and Ghost. Sansa sent her away to let Ghost out to hunt before entering the Keep. She wanted to speak with Lady Dayne alone. 

Once inside the Great Keep, she made her way to the rooms given to Lady Dayne and Lord Reed, who would no doubt be returning soon from Moat Cailin. Turning ever so slightly to ensure that Lord Baelish had not followed her, Sansa leaned against a tapestry depicting the city of Braavos that had been sent along with books from White Harbor. Lord Manderly had been generous in his gifts, begging forgiveness for not supporting them against the Boltons. She stared at the Titan of Braavos at the center of the large woven cloth. Hearing a sound further down the hall she quickly continued on her way. 

Ashara Dayne was standing in the middle of her room next to a tall twisted tube of deep dark violet obsidian giving off the most strange light.  
"Lady Dayne, are you occupied?" Sansa asked with hesitation as she entered the room. Seeing the tall tube with sharp edges, it was beautiful, magnetic, unsettling. She had never seen anything like it before. The shadows of the room were made the deepest black by the light. Lady Dayne's velvet burgundy dress was a dark flame. The silver streaks in hair shining like valyrian steel. 

"Come in, your grace," Ashara said. Sansa entered slowly staring at the tube. Anticipating her question, Lady Dayne told her, "It's a glass candle. Don't be afraid. Come see."

Sansa walked toward the candle. She looked down at her own hair that had turned the color of fire. As she got closer, she thought she saw Jon's figure in the light. She felt her heart jump. His long face looked terribly stern. He was speaking to a very small man, _Lord Tyrion_.

Ashara gazed at her, "A daughter of ice and yet you are kissed by fire," she smiled. "No wonder the king loves you so." Abruptly, she placed a dark cloth over the candle. "One can not gaze for too long or you may never stop."

Sansa took in her words. She wanted Lady Dayne to bring back Jon. Let her look on him just awhile longer. Instead, the Lady from Starfall motioned for her to sit by the hearth. 

"I received a message for Lord Davos," Sansa told her. "It seems all is moving forward." Lady Dayne nodded. 

"There is more you wish to tell me?" she asked. _How does she always know,_ thought Sansa _?_ Seeing the candle out of the corner of her eye, she began to understand. Lady Dayne says little most days unless in private. Yet, she knew much, more than much. 

"Littlefinger is suspicious," Sansa said turning away from where the candle stood. "He is threatening to call in the Night's Watch's debts."  

"My resources are only so vast. Though my heart may be big, your grace."

Sansa wanted to laugh, "You mean your ambition, my lady?"

 "Ahh...legacy is not the same as ambition." she said her voice soft. 

"What does it matter? We're women. They allow us neither." Sansa said. 

"So sure, your grace? I hear songs of a lady and her wolf? Of a lucky princess or the maid that turned into a wolf that grew wings and flew away." Ashara Dayne's eyes grew wide. 

Sansa said nothing. _Life is not a song_ , _my lady._  

"Just songs, I suppose." Lady Dayne said with a wave of her hand. 

"Yes, just songs," Sansa repeated. 

Ashara Dayne returned to the issue of resources. "All has gone to food and supplies for Winterfell and the armies. What is left must be promised to the Neck."

"Of course, my lady. They're your people too now," Sansa told her. Thinking of how Lord Reed looked at Lady Dayne,  his eyes full of love. She wondered if Jon would look at her like that in 10 years, 15 years time. 

"Yes," she looked down at her growing stomach. Not so large, yet, but still the pregnancy was apparent unlike Sansa's. "My queen, how have you been?"

"Fine," Sansa said. "I don't know...it's weird. Just different. I only felt sick to my stomach a few times."

"Then you're truly a lucky Queen," Ashara said. "It was much worse for me."

"It's passed, though?" Sansa asked.

"Mostly," was all Ashara said. Lady Dayne was at least 2 moon turns ahead of Sansa in her pregnancy. She wanted to hope for the babies and yet she feared it was folly. Childbirth was no easy thing. Childbirth in winter was an even greater risk. 

The two woman sat by the fire awhile longer. Sansa giving Lady Dayne more details of Davos' letter and the events in Gulltown. She told her of Mya Stone, the new Lady Arryn, and young Robin. She said she hoped Jon was not too angry with her for helping arrange the betrothal. Lady Dayne laughed and assured her that if it meant Littlefinger losing influence in the Vale, he would forget his anger soon enough.

"I miss him," Sansa told her. "I even miss him when he is angry at me."

"You'll see him sooner than you think."

Sansa glanced again at the candle covered in the dark cloth. _Will I?_

"Did we really need this alliance?" she asked the older woman thinking how beautiful she was in the firelight. 

"One must face the darkness if they wish to bring peace," Ashara told her touching the faint scar on her face. She never told Sansa how she came about the mark.  

Sansa was not sure she understood. "The darkness is now. There is nothing to face. We just survive." Sansa shook her head, "My lady, I will never understand why you want to help this Mother of Dragons."

"Help? Did I say we were helping her? Your grace, she'll be helping you,"

_And then what?_ Sansa thought but did not give voice to those concerns. _We are wolves and must survive winter first._ She sat with Lady Dayne awhile longer the talk turning to mundane castle matters, gossip, Sansa's dreams for life after winter, and the life in her belly. True to her nature Lady Dayne listened more than she offered her own reports. Once the moon was high overhead, Sansa took her leave of the lady. She noticed a knowing look on Lady Dayne's face when she exited. 

Sansa walked back to the Lord's Chambers, her chambers. The room she had shared with Jon. Slipping past the door the loneliness came over her. She felt empty despite the growing fullness in her womb. The fire in the hearth had died down to a faint glow, making the room very dark. Sansa didn't mind. It was still warm enough for her and she didn't need a light to find her way around the furniture to her chair by the fireplace. On the table next to it, she reached for a folded tunic, one left behind by Jon. Sansa brought it to her face slowly inhaling. Refusing to wash it, the fabric still smelled of him.

There was movement near the window behind her. Turning her head Sansa realized she was not alone. The figure in a dark hood and cloak moved forward. It was a face Sansa had not seen before. She gasped standing up to confront the person. 

"Who's there?" Her voice almost stuck in her throat. She had nothing not even a dagger with her to defend herself. 

"Where's your lady knight? You're not being very careful, sister," said the voice. 

Sansa watched the face change before her eyes. "Arya"

Arya walked out of the shadows with a sword in her hand, "The singers say the red wolf flew into battle on the back of a falcon, or a bat, or a dragon. Which is it sister?"

Stunned Sansa said nothing. Arya kept the sword pointed at her. Sansa thought she saw the shape of a bow on her back as well. 

"I suppose I'd want them to say I mounted the dragon," Sansa said. "But we both know a direwolf doesn't need a mount."

Sansa saw her sister smile and move closer lowering her sword.  

"Oh Arya..." Sansa said wrapping her arms around her sister. "You're home."

"Yes, Sansa" Arya replied. "I'm home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And she's back! I'm more excited about this than I realized. Someone needs to be around to give Sansa a hard time...lol.


	8. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Jon is in Dragonstone...
> 
> "This woman was not his family. He had not run in the Godswood with her. He had not fought in the yard or rode horses with her or mussed her hair when she was a girl. And he certainly had not said vows to her in front of a heart tree. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo...this chapter had to happen. It's not exactly what you think...  
> And see the end notes. I'm a little nervous about what happens.

**Jon**

"What if I want my wife back?" Tyrion Lannister asked Jon. The two men stood on the stone battlements of Dragonstone looking out over the rough sea. It harkened back to a time would they stood atop the Wall overlooking the vast wilderness of the North. 

"Sansa?" 

"Yes, that would be her. The woman I married in the great sept of Baelor," he said. 

"The sept is gone," Jon reminded him. 

"Yes, thanks to my sister. Seems my lady wife is not," Tyrion replied. 

"Your marriage was false. Forced on her." Jon said clenching his sword hand. "You seek to force her again."

"No..sadly you beat me to it," Tyrion said. 

"I forced nothing on her. We married the old way. Under the eyes of the old gods," Jon said. 

"Certainly, I'm sure she finds your crown very attractive. And of course, you find her name just as appealing as her long legs," Tyrion said. 

Jon shook his head. He did like the Lannister imp but forgot that the man thought himself entirely too clever. He could feel the rage rising in his stomach he wanted to hit the wall or else he would hit the Lannister. It took all his control to not rage. 

"It seems that it's not the only marriage you forced. This thing between the boy Lord and Robert's bastard girl. What were you thinking?" The imp asked him. _What was I thinking?_

"It was necessary."

"You've the North, the Vale, and now a possible claimant to the Stormlands pledging to you. Do you mean to have seven kingdoms?"

"I only mean to rule the North," seemed like the answer Lord Tyrion wanted to here. There was a sound overhead causing both men to look up. Jon saw a dragon fly like a phoenix through the air, beautiful and terrifying. He couldn't look away. 

"As beautiful as they are deadly," Tyrion said, his eyes following the beast. The imp turned to face Jon, "Sansa, she'll make a great Queen," he added. "I'll see you this afternoon at the council meeting."

Jon watched the small man walk away towards Dragonstone's main keep. He turned back to the dragons now flying in the distance. It was as if they were playing with each other as they swept through the sky.  The image of his wolf came to him. He missed the large direwolf, missed being inside of him, missed running through the snow. He lowered his head and continued to walk along the stone walls. 

Jon found his way to a courtyard where Unsullied were training. He noticed Mya Stone, the new Lady Arryn, on the edge of the yard watching attentively. She wore breeches underneath her long woolen jacket that was belted at the waist. He wondered if this is how Arya would dress where ever in the seven kingdoms she was. 

"They are hesitant to let me train," she said to Jon as he approached her. _That is because you are green._ Jon had taken the time to train with her on days when the sea was not so rough and the ship did not rock. Since they had come to Dragonstone, he found time to train when he could. Mya joined him and some of his men. She was untrained but strong and more importantly willing. 

"Grab a sword, Lady Arryn," he said. "And bring one for me." Mya quickly ran to grab training steel and helms. He began to work with her. Though, he soon wanted someone he could truly spar with. Jon wanted to hit something, he wanted to hit something very hard. He scanned the yard and motioned towards the Unsullied commander, the one they called Greyworm. 

As they began to fight, Jon noticed the dragon Queen watching from above displeasure written across her face. Alongside her stood Lord Tyrion and her scribe. 

Greyworm hit hard and fast. Jon was faster and met each blow with his sword. He soon overpowered the Unsullied pushing him to the ground. Greyworm was not to be that easily defeated. He pushed back, hitting Jon in the stomach with the blunt edge of his sword, knocking him off balance. As he rolled onto his back Jon quickly reached for the sword he dropped. Pointing it up just as Greyworm went to stand over him. They ended the fight in a draw. 

Mya Stone was still in the yard watching the spectacle, too. Next to her had appeared the whore from King's Landing they called Alayaya. Jon made his way toward them, heaving as he walked. It's possible Greyworm cracked a lower rib. 

"Don't think the dragon Queen'll like it if you injure her top commander," Mya told him. Jon ignored the comment. Lady Arryn reminded him more and more of Arya or Lyanna Mormont. _Though Sansa would probably tell me the same thing._

"He fought well. But how will he do against bigger men than me? How will any of these Unsullied do against mounted Knights?" Jon thought out loud. 

Alayaya spoke up, "Don't dothraki ride horses?"

"And where are these Dothraki?" Jon asked looking at the woman from King's Landing. He wondered what she really knew about Dothraki horders. Then he remembered she worked in a brothel in King's Landing.  Her and Mya Stone had become fast friends. He thought they were similar, high-born fathers and common mothers. 

"In Dorne, they say, your grace," Alayaya said. 

"hmm, yes Dorne,' he repeated. Jon was deep in thought staring at the spot where Daenerys and Lord Tyrion had been standing. They retreated back to the keep after the fight. _Perhaps, this woman could be helpful._

Turning to her, "You'll be returning to King's Landing with Lord Tyrion?"

"Yes, I suppose so," she said, her eyes downcast and she picked at the hem of her sleeve of her elegant deep burgundy velvet gown. Jon thought she sounded disappointed. _  
_

"You'd rather stay here?" he asked looking around at the dark stone that made up the castle. The dragon carvings everywhere. _Who would want to stay here?_

"She could visit the Vale as my guest?" Mya spoke up. 

"Lady Arryn, you have more to do before you return to the Vale," Jon said pointing his sword toward her.

Mya began to speak but Davos approached them at that moment.

"Your grace, the Queen is ready for today's meeting," he said to Jon. He nodded and turned toward the Ladies bowing deeply.

"My ladies, we'll speak soon," he said before walking away with Davos. Jon could hear the whispered shock between the two women. 

"Do you think the whore will help us?" he asked Davos once they were inside the keep.

"My grace, she seems to be very fond of the Lady Arryn. Mayhaps, if she is promised a place in the court at the Eyrie or some landed Vale knight..."

"Yes.." Jon said. This was Sansa's work, not his. He knew how to fight not make promises to young women who they wanted as spies. "Speak with her, speak with both of them."

"Lady Arryn, will know?" Davos asked. 

"Aye, she's no love for this dragon Queen," Jon said. 

"She doesn't? Why?" Davos asked Jon. They had almost reached the stairs of the Stone Drum. 

"Who knows why one person does not like another," he said annoyed at the question. Davos said no more as they climbed the stairs to the Chamber of the Painted Table where Daenerys and Lord Tyrion waited. 

The meeting would go on for several hours. They stood or at times sat around the large painted table carved into the shape of Westeros. Daenerys Targaryen stood across from Jon and Davos with Tyrion by her side. Theon stayed in the shadows far from the table avoiding Jon's glare as best he could. Lest, Jon rain some new form of rage down upon him. The scribe and Greyworm also stood around the table. Daenerys stared at Jon while he pressed on pacing up and down the length of the table.

"I have seen what is coming. Here and here," he pointed to the map showing them Castle Black and  Hardhome. "And we found a wight in the Wolfswood."

'Isn't the Wall meant to stop the snarks and grumkins?" Tyrion asked. Jon gave him a cold look. It had been years since the Imp had traveled to the Wall, he still mocked its purpose. 

"If Wildlings can scale the Wall than I dread to think what the Others can do, my Lord," he said. "The Watch does not have enough men. The North does not have enough men."

"Why should I help you, my lord," Daenerys finally spoke. Jon clutched his hand. The hand that had been burnt when he threw a lantern at the wight attacking Lord Commander Mormont.  _She does not respect my crown._

"Stannis came to the Wall because it was part of the seven kingdoms. He understood if he did not help, he would have no kingdom to rule," Davos said. 

"Stannis, the usuper's brother?" she asked raising her eyebrows. "Why would I want to be like him."

Jon looked at Davos, it was a mistake to talk of Stannis to this Queen. She hardly wanted to speak with a Stark as it was. On his first day on the island she informed him that the only reason she did through him in her dungeon for being a Stark was because rumors claimed he was also a Targaryen. Jon thought it more likely that Tyrion had also advised it would be unwise to imprison the ruler of the North. 

"Your grace, we are not suggesting such a thing," Davos attempted to smooth his statements.  

"And do they not call you King in the North? King of one of my kingdoms." her voice filled with accusations. 

Jon looked around the room. "I would say you only have Dragonstone at the moment." Daenerys narrowed her eyes at Jon. 

"I will have what was taken from my family," she said her voice rising. 

"Your family," Tyrion added gesturing to Jon. He bristled at this.  When they had confirmed the rumors that Jon was the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna with records from the Citadel, Daenerys appeared nonplussed by the news. She only asked if he wanted the Iron Throne and when he said No, she said nothing. It was clear that Lord Tyrion did not believe that he did not want rule the realm and Jon did not care. He cared little what either of them thought. 

This woman was not his family. He had not run in the Godswood with her. He had not fought in the yard or rode horses with her or mussed her hair when she was a girl. And he certainly had not said vows to her in front of a heart tree. 

Jon turned back to Tyrion and the dragon Queen. "My family is in the North. That is the only family I have ever known."

Daenerys gave him a cool smile. "Well, it seems we are family now, nephew."

He wanted to rage, he felt it coming up inside him. Yet, he held his tongue. They needed her dragons to fight the others. They need Dragonstone's dragonglass. He had to find a way to convince her of the threat. 

It was the third day of their negotiations and they were no closer to an agreement than when he had arrived a sen week past. Jon had decided that he wanted nothing to do with her war against Cersei. He only wanted dragonglass from the island and a promise of future aid. That was until the whore from King's Landing Alayaya had approached him with a message from Jaime Lannister. Cersei was doing everything she possibly could to get her hands on Sansa, dead or alive. _Something would have to be done about this mad Queen._ It would have to be him or Daenerys. He thought of the Red Wedding that killed his half-brother, no cousin, Robb. The treachery a Lannister were capable of.  For all her dragons, her unsullied and dothraki, he was not confident the dragon Queen could fight a Lannister armed with the Wildfire. 

It was Tyrion that cooled the tensions, "Mayhaps it is time for lunch, your graces," he said. Jon and Davos were relieved to have an excuse to end the meeting. 

Descending the stairs, Dragonstone's Maester approached Jon. "There has been a raven for you." The seal showed that it was from Winterfell, _Sansa_. Will she finally say the words? _Tell me truthfully that she is with child._ He knew she would not put the words in a raven. It made him long for home, for her arms. Davos left him to read the message. Jon walked along Dragonstone's walls as he read. 

The message was of practical matters, castle stores, the first supplies had reached them from White Harbour. She spoke of a group of men called The Brotherhood without Banners that had come from the Riverlands after expelling the Freys and Lannisters from Riverrun. It seems that Sansa's Uncle Edmure had been reinstalled as Lord of Riverrun. _Mayhaps, he'll have the sense to hold it this time._   Jon would leave Lord Edmure to Sansa. The Brotherhood wished to fight for the North, to defend the realm from the others. They were few in numbers but brave, Sansa told him and many were great fighters. She even said The Hound had repented and joined them. Jon did not like the thought of the former Lannister dog at Winterfell. 

"Your grace," a voice called from behind. Jon turned to see Daenerys. Folding the message, he placed it in his jerkin. He would keep the news of Riverrun to himself.  Another region this Queen would want to have pledge fealty to her no doubt. The Riverlands belonged to the family of his Queen and Bran, and Arya wherever she was. _They will help their uncle make a decision, Sansa will see to that._

"Yes," he said. 

"You must want to be rid of Cersei? She wants your sister's head or is it your cousin?"

"It's my Queen," he said.

"A true Targaryen," she gave him a sly half smile. A smile he did not return. "I suppose you had to marry her to keep your crown in the North,"

"That is not why we married," he responded. She nodded as if it continued to confirm his Targaryen-ness. _She knows the truth of it. I am depraved and would have bed Sansa eventually even if she was my half-sister._  

"Will the North help us?"

Jon thought her voice sounded so very young when she asked. 

"When we defeat the others. We will do our best. That is all I can promise," he said. He knew it was very little and not nearly what she wanted. 

"And you do want Cersei dead?" she asked.

"I want to protect my family, to protect the North. If that means killing Cersei then so be it. And if you can do it. I will be forced, too." he said starting to walk away from her. 

"Lord Tyrion goes to treat with Jaime Lannister. We will feast this evening," she said. "My men will be leaving soon to go to battle."

"Of course,"  was all he could think to say while he continued to leave her.

He turned back once as he walked away. Daenerys was staring out into the sea toward Essos. _Does she wonder why she came here? S_ he was tiny and anxious and more than a little alone. Yet, even from this distance, he could sense her determination. Jon cursed to himself. The last thing the Seven Kingdoms needed was another war, and a war in winter at that. 

The feast was ruckus affair. Dancers from Pentos had been sent from a magistrate to entertain. Endless amounts of food from the east and Dornish wine graced the table. Jon sat brooding at the high table to one side of the dragon Queen with the Imp to the other. He prayed to the old gods the conversation would not turn to Sansa. He was saved from that, they seemed more interested in Tyrion's meeting with his brother and plans to march across the Reach. _It was folly_ he thought. He felt the familiar urge to help plan their battle but he forced himself to stay quiet. 

His eyes scanned the room. There was Theon in the corner, wisely avoiding him. Jon despised the man. Despised him for what he did to Robb but more so for what he didn't do for Sansa. _He could've saved her sooner._   He caught Lord Davos drink merrily at a lower table sat between to Lady Arryn and Alayaya out of the corner of his eye. The onion knight seemed to be enjoying the company of two young attractive women. Though, he could not tell if the ladies were mocking him or simply enjoying a good jape. Jon hoped whatever they were discussing, Davos was also furthering their plans. They would need Alayaya to report to them about Lord Tyrion and Jaime Lannister. _We need eyes and ears in King's Landing and on Dragonstone._  

The drink had begun to increase the weight of his head ten times. Jon decided he would take his leave of the feast. Bidding a good evening to Daenerys, who hardly noticed him, and Lord Tyrion, he went to his rooms. 

Laying on the bed, Jon closed his eyes made heavy with the Dornish wine. Sleep so rarely found him since Melisandre, the red priestess had brought him back. Only the warmth of Sansa's arms and the exhaustion of their lovemaking could bring rest. Or on the rare occasion, he slipped into Ghost's skin when Ghost decided to sleep. He had not had those things in almost 3 moons. Once his eyes were closed, he found himself flying through the dark sky. Well above Dragonstone. _No, no I do not want this._   _I want to be with Ghost running in the Godswood._ He felt the dragon turn north gliding through the air. He could keep going all the way to Winterfell, land in the courtyard, and see Sansa. Maybe she would be making snowmen with the children from Winter Town. 

There was a sound of a door opening that roused him from his dragon dream. In the dark room, he thought he made out a small figure standing at the foot of the bed. _Sansa_ , he wanted to say. the words would not come out of his dry mouth and foggy mind. The figure was too small to be his queen much too small.  A light hand touched his arm, the figure had moved closer, _Sansa,_. he thought again and again the words would not come. _What sorcery was this?_

"Go to sleep, my lord," a voice said. _Wake up_ he thought, his head would not raise from the bed. His eyes would not stay open. A dark sleep called to him and he relented. The last thing he noticed was a weight on his chest, something warm on top of him.

When he woke, the room felt empty. A gray light was coming through the window. The darkness had not come to Dragonstone, not yet. His head was pounding and his body arched. _Had he drunk that much at the feast?_ The dragon dream came back to him and something else. Something he could not quite remember. He had not been alone in the room that he was sure of. Mayhaps, it was just part of his dragon dream. He was sure that he did not like this place. 

Jon called for parchment and ink when they brought the food to break his fast. He wrote a hurried message to Winterfell. A short word of love for Sansa and then told her that this Brotherhood should meet him at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. They would leave for the Northern port in three days taking what dragonglass they could buy. It was time to prepare the Wall for what would come. More importantly, it was time to leave Dragonstone. 

Jon intended to seek out the King of the Others. They would protect the realm whether anyone believed it or not. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are meant to be ambiguous. And it's not that I don't like Daenerys as a character. 
> 
> And I was hesitant about this chapter because I don't want this to be used as an example of women behaving badly. Dany has lots of issues and I haven't completely figured out her motivations. (which is totally on me as a writer..lol...)
> 
> I probably could have had two chapters of Jon at Dragonstone that would have gotten into other characters motivations. I'm not interested in writing a Dany or Tyrion POV. And I would like to get to the reunion with Sansa sooner!!! And tbh I'm also not that interested in Dany's war. I'm interested in how Jon and Sansa and team North deal with it. 
> 
> The only reason to have another Dragonstone chapter would have been because a few things need to happen at Winterfell before Jon leaves Dragonstone....but I'll leave it at that ;-)


	9. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The treachery was worse than Sansa had feared."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the bit of delay between this chapter and the last. I've been writing this and the next four chapters all at once.  
> I had this almost finished and then the season 7 trailer came out! And decided it would be best to post this when I was almost ready to post the next chapter, too.

**Sansa**

Sansa sat as upright as she could at the table in the Great Hall, her brother Bran next to her. The petitioners came before them one by one. They were far fewer then her father had seen at the height of the summer months. And certainly, fewer than had come before the Iron Throne. Still, there were enough and it was her duty to listen. 

Glancing around the room, she saw Lady Dayne and Lord Reed sitting at a table with Meera and the newly arrived Brotherhood Without Banners including the Hound, who was a much changed man. Lyanna Mormont was with them as well. On the opposite side of the room were a few of the Vale Knights including Lord Royce. Littlefinger lurked behind them, his eyes fixed on Lady Dayne and the Brotherhood. Sansa feared this would become more a problem than it already was. Animosity between Lady Dayne and Littlefinger had grown faster than the former shadowbinder's belly. In the hall in front of her people, she ignored their tension. Her gaze returned to the petitioner standing before her. 

 Yet, as much as she loved her people, these lords and ladies, knights, and common folk who loved House Stark, it was becoming almost too much to bear. One minute she was calm and contented the next she wanted to toss the Miller down the halls of the Great Keep. 

Her breasts had swollen and pushed against the fabric of her dress. She loosened her bodice and kept her cloak on while outside of her room to hide the hints of her pregnancy. Only when she was without clothes could she see the slight roundness of her belly.  Lady Dayne had told her it was all perfectly normal and gave her what advice she could. Sansa still refused to see Maester Wolkan. Jon's friend Sam promised to come North. She would wait for him and be content with Lady Dayne's skills as a shadowbinder before she would let the Bolton's Maester touch her. 

Now, a butcher or was he a baker, she could not remember, was complaining about their neighbor in Winter Town tossing their waste in front of his door. _Aren't their rules about these things? I will have to speak with Jon when he returns._ The neighbor was in attendance and began to justify his actions. _Oh, good gods._ Finally, Sansa could listen no longer. She began to understand why the mad king went mad. 

Standing up, the room silenced, "My good people, how many of you have your letters?" The audience looked around at each other. Even Lady Dayne who stood in the corner raised her ever calm eyebrows. _How does that woman stay so calm when she is with child, as well?_ wondered Sansa. 

"Tell me, I would like to know?" Perhaps a dozen raised their hands. A few of the Brotherhood Without Banners raised their hands.  Most of the others were children that she had instructed Maester Wolkan to give lessons to in order to keep them from getting lost in a snow drift. 

"Step forward," she commanded. The six who claimed to read stepped forward. Three children, a young woman who looked to be from the brothel, and two older merchants. She called the Maester to the front as well and commanded him to test them. 

"Those of you that are adequate at your letters shall record the petitions. I will read them and determine the best course of action," she told the audience. Seeing that the older merchants were about to protest, "And of course you and your families shall be compensated for your assistance. It is a great honor to have you help House Stark in this manner," Sansa added with her warmest smile. With that Sansa followed by her Lady Knight and her squire Podrick,left a somewhat stunned audience in the Great Hall to retreat to her rooms. 

"Your grace," Lord Baelish called to her just outside of the hall. Sansa closed her eyes and took a slow inhale before turning to face him. She noticed Brienne put her hand on her sword Oathkeeper. 

"My Lord?"

"Might I escort you back to your rooms," he asked with one of his sly smiles. Sansa could not think of an excuse, so she nodded in agreement. He walked next to her while Brienne followed behind. 

"I've received very intriguing news from the Vale," he began. Sansa braced herself for what would be next. 

"You have, my lord?" she asked.

"Yes, I am sure you're already aware of it," he said. 

"I assure you I've heard nothing of the Vale," she told him.

He smiled his sly smile, "Certainly, because you would tell me if you heard of our sweet young Lord Arryn marrying."

"Marrying! Sweet Robin?" she said shocked and placing her hand on her chest. "But he is so young. And..and to whom?" Sansa turned to Lord Baelish. "My Lord, did you arrange something without informing us?"

Littlefinger laughed at this, "My dear Queen, I believe you and your King had a hand in it. I don't believe Cersei legitimatized Mya Stone."

"But of course we legitimatized her. Why it is good to have a friend, who is of the Stormlands. But marriage..my lord," Sansa said shaking her head, her voice sweet with innocence. She could feel Littlefinger's eyes on her.  

"I must congratulate my friend. I do hope she is happy. Lord Arryn is so young and marriage can be trying," Sansa said aloud. Letting her worries recede into the background of her mind. 

"As I'm sure your king knows, my Queen," Lord Baelish said. Sansa felt her stomach sink. "Of course, he has a fine and capable lady wife."

Sansa feigned shock, "Of course he does, my lord."

 "And If he fails to return, the North will be in even better hands," Lord Baelish said.

Sansa stopped walking, all signs of jest left her. "If he fails to return, I will know who is responsible." She wondered if he knew of Jon's visit to Gulltown. _Of course, he knows. His spies are everywhere. And if he knows that, he knows Jon is one his way to Eastwatch._

"Will you, my Queen?" his voice followed Sansa as she continued walking down the hall. "You both have many enemies."

Brienne followed quickly behind her. "My Queen," she said under her breath. "Please, I will execute him now."  Sansa did not answer her. _My lady knight the time is coming._

Sansa reached the Lord's Chamber and told Brienne to stand guard. Entering the room and closing the door, she let out a low gasp.  
"Arya!" she jumped not expecting to see her sister sitting in one of the high-back chairs her legs swung over the armrests, chomping on an apple.

"Sister," Arya said.

"What?" Sansa replied. "Don't scare me like that. If you haven't noticed I'm with child."

"And plenty of people are trying to kill you," Arya reminded her before taking another bite of her apple.

"I'm aware. One of those people was you, little sister," Sansa said closing the door and walking toward a table to light more candles. "I haven't forgotten the arrow you shot at me."

Arya laughed an evil laugh. Sansa wondered when her sister became so diabolical. "Maybe I was trying to hit your lady Knight?"

"If that was the case, you're a horrible shot. And that I find hard to believe," she said. 

"You're not being careful enough," Arya said again. Sansa did not turn to face her sister. She was frustrated that Arya insisted on staying hidden at Winterfell. 

"You didn't even come to hear the petitions? Bran was there. The Brotherhood arrived two days ago. They know you are here...somewhere..." Sansa's voice trailed off. 

"I was there," Arya told her. "I heard you ask who was lettered." Sansa turned to face her. 

"Too lazy to hear the petitions yourself," Arya challenged her. 

"If more of our people have some...some learning, we'll be better off," Sansa said.

"ha..liar...you just hate sitting there listening to them," Arya said. "You always hated common people."

"I did not...I do not," Sansa's voice started to raise. "We're not fighting about this. There are more important things."

"Like Littlefinger?" Arya said. "See how he looks at you? Like he wants to devour you."

"Stop, this is serious," Sansa said. 

"I'm serious," she said. "And the Lady Knight with the Lannister sword..."

There was a knock on Sansa's door. 

"Who is it?" Sansa called out. 

"Bran," her brother said. Opening the door a crack, she could see he was not alone. "It's ok," he added, "We know." Sansa let Bran, who was being pushed in his chair with wheels by Lady Dayne, into the room. 

"My Lady, should you be pushing him in your condition," Sansa asked. 

"It's fine my Queen," Ashara Dayne assured her. 

"Meera pushed me to the door and then left us," Bran said. 

Bran stared at Arya in the center of the room. She smiled at him. 

"I knew you were here," he said. Sansa watched Arya run to hug Bran. She introduced her sister to Lady Ashara Dayne, the Dornish lady from Starfall. A lady who had learned the dark arts of shadowbinding in the east. _They will have much in common these two._  Arya smiled and said that she had met Edric, her nephew when he was a squire for Beric Dondarrion. 

"Edric, is he still..?" Arya didn't finish the question she wanted to ask. 

"Yes, my princess," Lady Dayne said. "He is on his own journey. We all have a role to play in the War for the Dawn." Sansa thought she saw her sister give Lady Dayne a shy smile. 

Lady Dayne did not stay long before returning to the rooms she shared with Lord Reed. 

Sansa and Arya and Bran stayed in the room talking as the moon rose over Winterfell. When the castle was quiet Arya took Bran to his chambers leaving Sansa to rest. She called to Brienne to bring Ghost to her. Laying on the bed in her woolen shift, Sansa watched her swollen belly move up and down while she waited for the beast.

She wondered how big the babe was now. For past two days she thought she felt the quickening in her belly, though she could not say for sure. Her hand rotating over her stomach, she started to sing a soft song of Aemon the Dragonknight. _By the time you are ready to come, your father will be back. We will all be together, Jon, Arya, Bran, and me and you. My little babe, my little daughter or son._

There was a rapping at the window, Sansa saw that Alysanne was perched on the ledge. Her beautiful owl the color of snow brought a smile to her face. The bird had been with her since Deepwood Motte. It seemed so long ago that she and Jon had traveled the North petitioning their neighbors to help them retake Winterfell. _It has been little more than half a year since that time._ She thought of the nights underneath the furs with Jon. _We will go back their when spring comes. We will share furs in a tent underneath the sentinel trees._

Alysanne seemed agitated, she wrapped her wings against the window. Sansa rose from the to open the window. There were times she let the bird into her chambers when no one else was around. When she opened the window a gust of cold air rushed into the room. She barely noticed the room's heavy door creak open at the same time. 

Sansa turned when Alysanne flew past her. It was then that Sansa saw the dark hooded figure that had entered the room. It tried to lunge for and she saw the glint of a blade fly through the air. Her owl flew between them squawking while she assailed the face of the attacker. There screams and feathers everywhere. A loud thud was heard when the attacker pushed the bird into the wall. 

It was then that Ghost and Brienne stormed into the room. The giant wolf pinning the person onto the ground, the lady knight's sword at their neck. Sansa heaved as she stood in shock. 

"Say the word, my Queen," Brienne said not taking her eyes off the attacker. Sansa could not find the words, her mind racing. She ran to Alysanne who lay in a heap on the floor one wing thumping. The other looked to be broken, Sansa cradled the owl trying to calm her. 

Arya came flying into the room, next. Startling Sansa, so she almost dropped the poor bird. 

"What's happening?" she demanded. 

"Their has been an attempted attack," Brienne said still holding a sword to the man. Ghost was snarling at the attacker's bloody face. 

"Brienne take him to our dungeon. Find Lady Dayne, you both can question him," Sansa said staring hard at her attacker. A man of medium build with non-descript features and a now very bloody face thanks to Sansa's owl. "Arya search the castle. Make she there are no more. And I will take care of Alysanne."

"We aren't leaving you," Arya said. 

"I have Ghost. And Brienne leave Podrick with me and call Lord Reed."

"Yes, your grace," the Lady Knight said. They went to leave the room. 

"And one more thing, no one can see you. No one need know about this. Do you both understand?" Sansa asked. Brienne nodded but Arya only grunted. Once, the women left she bound the bird's wing with strips of cloth, calmed her and placed her in a large wooden box with a woolen blanket to rest. 

The man was questioned long into the night. It was Lord Reed who joined Lady Dayne and Brienne that got the most information from the attacker. He had been sent from King's Landing most likely by Cersei. What was worse, the knew of Lord Baelish. He said that the Queen was furious that Lord Baelish had broken their agreement. Their agreement to bring Sansa's head to her in return for Winterfell. 

The treachery was worse than Sansa had feared. She knew Lord Baelish would eventually try to hurt Jon. He had implied as much just hours earlier. _But was he also trying to hurt her?_   How could she be sure he had truly broken the agreement. And now that he was losing influence in the Vale and money to Lady Dayne, he may become desperate. She had let the matter go for far to long. 

When the questioning was finished, she gathered her sister and brother. "We must let Cersei think her work is complete," Sansa said. 

"What?" Arya looked shocked. "You can't be serious, sister."

Sansa raised her hand to protest. "And this man can be useful to us,"  she said. "We will offer to send him to the Wall."

"You can't mean to let him live?" Arya asked stabbing her sword into the floor. Bran only sighed. 

"If he helps us," Sansa said. "Listen to me carefully and I'll tell you what we will do."

They talked long after the moon had fallen and the darkest of the long night descended on the castle. When all was finally agreed upon, Sansa dressed in her warmest wool stockings, a heavy gray woolen gown, and her thick fur-lined cloak. If she prayed she would ask the Old Gods for their assistance. Instead, she silently made her way to the crypts, walking in the shadows so no one would see her. 

Sansa descended down into the tombs past the Kings of Winter and stopping at Lyanna's statue to light a candle, _I will see him soon_ she promised her aunt _._ Moving quickly on, she found the room she had made for the direwolves. The Queen in the North sat next to Lady's tomb, falling asleep while she waited for the moon to rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JonxSansa reunion is coming soon. Well, we have a few more chapters to go but I promise they will be worth it! It will all be worth it. :-)


	10. Mya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mya and Davos discuss the events at Dragonstone.
> 
> While Mya begins to think she may want more than her mountain and her donkeys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I had another Winterfell chapter before this. But since people wanted more details about Dragonstone, I decided to post this first.  
> I hope this gives a bit more insight. We'll be getting Jon's POV in a few chapters...and he might or might not start to remember more ;-)
> 
> *I fully understand that some folks might feel Davos is acting very OOC in this chapter. Maybe he is. Though I'm of the belief he has a bit of dark/crazy past and it's bound to come out at some point.

**Mya**

Mya thought of her mountain, a mountain would never leave her, never. Feeling the boat sway underneath her feet, _but I left my mountain_. The coast was never far from view as they sailed past Tarth, the sapphire isle, eventually reaching Cape Wrath. 

The small ship sailed on the gray water. Mya Stone, the new Lady Arryn stood on the deck watching the sea. The trip from Gulltown to Dragonstone had been miserable. She had hardly ever been on a boat on the open sea and was sick to her stomach regularly. This time was much better. It had been decided she would stop with Lord Davos in Cape Wrath first before making their way to Storm's End. The place her father had been born, a place she swore she would never visit. She closed her eyes and let the frigid salt water spray sting her face. 

"My Lady, you didn't like the Dragon Queen?" Davos asked as he approached her on the deck. 

"No," she said keeping her eyes closed and her hands folded within her cloak. 

"I liked the dragons," she said adding, "from a distance." They had finally seen the dragons up close the day after the feast. They even let the King close enough to touch the one called Rhaegal. 

"May I ask why?" he said.

Mya opened her eyes to scan Lord Davos wondering whether to be truthful or not. He was a kindly man if a bit stern at times. She imagined him scolding her if she was rude to a guest or refused to eat her dinner. He had certainly been more entertaining when he was drunk at the feast. 

"You saw how she was with the King," Mya said. Davos gave her a questioning look. 

"How she was?" he asked. 

Mya sighed loudly, "She wants him." Davos stared at her. Mya decided she would have to be clearer. "For herself."

"I see," he said. "You believe this?"

"HA! Believe...anyone with eyes can see it," said Mya. "The Queen, my queen, Sansa, is my friend. And this Jon Snow is her king. Why she choose such a broody bastard I'll never know but I guess he's alright..."

Davos gave her his stern look, "Oy, he's more than alright, my lady. He's very loyal. There is nothing to be concerned about," Davos said. "And address the king respectfully," he chided. 

Mya couldn't help herself but laugh, "He's a man first, Lord Davos. A man who is away from his home, his wife." She waved a hand before the onion knight could object. "You've never sought warmth when you were away? A woman's never turned to other arms when her husband was gone to play at war?" Davos did not answer her. She's sure he had turned to other women while spending months smuggling. 

"He's too bloody broody to do anything about it unless pushed,"  she said. "And I don't think he likes the dragon queen, either. Granted that wouldn't stop some folk." Davos only shrugged.

"The king isn't some folk," Davos told her. 

"Very true," she said. "But he wasn't being careful." Now Davos looked at her confused. 

"She found a letter, letters, about Riverrun," Mya told him. 

"How do you..."

"Lady Yaya overheard Daenerys and Lord Tyrion speak of it," Mya said, adding. "You asked her to spy remember."

"But how would they find his letters..." Davos wondered. 

"Well," Mya grumbled almost rolling her eyes. "You think it's that hard to get into a man's room when he's drunk."  _And considering how much drink Daenerys had him served at the banquet the king probably remembered very little._  Davos seemed unsettled by this information. 

"My lord, us women, we learn to watch our cups," she told him. "Men should learn it, too." Mya's gaze was hard on Davos. Men treated women poorly, men had probably treated the dragon queen poorly. Eventually, it breaks inside of you, all the hurt. It shatters and the shards can kill you. Some days, she felt as if she walked on all the shards a million times over. Some people when they get tired of being broken try to break others. 

"Ya shouldn't have to learn it," he said. 

"Well, in a pretty world maybe not," she said. Leaning against the railing of the ship the wind blowing the hood of her cloak back. 

"You were far into ya cups, too my lord," Mya reminded him with a smile. "Lady Yaya and I almost thought to take ya. But you were to far gone," She laughed. 

"My lady, I would say I am sorry I disappointed you. But I am sure it was for the best," he said gripping the railing. 

"Aye, it was," Mya said. "We found a much younger lordling to entertain us. Some Velaryon younger son or another. Yaya will remember his name." 

"My Lady, you are the Lady of Vale now," he warned her. 

"Everyone at that feast was so far in their cups. They wouldn't have noticed if a dragon burned the place down,"  Mya dismissed his concerns. "And I suspect the Vale needs me more than, I need a Ladyship." She thought she saw Davos nod in agreement. 

They reached Cape Wrath the next day, Mya was again thankful to be off the ship. The Stormlands were gray and cold but nothing like the darkness that had settled in the Vale. From the outside, the Seaworth Holdfast appeared modest. The interior told another tale entirely. The furnishings were fine and well-made. Marya, Davos' wife, was not flashy but her clothes were made from the finest silk wools lined with threads of silver or gold. Mya had never seen such finery or good taste. _Sansa would like this place. Yaya would like this place._

Word had been sent from Dragonstone that they would be visiting. The message had been as vague as possible. They would only stay a few days while preparing for their next destination. Lady Marya, who was not really a lady, was ready for them. She was had be very pretty in her youth Mya thought. Even now, her face had few wrinkles, her dark hair only bits of gray. Her wide brown eyes shined. There was an elegance that even Ladies of ancient Vale houses did not have.  

Davos' wife had given Mya two dresses to take when they went to Storm's End. All Mya had known was the mountain and aside from the borrowed dress she had worn on her wedding night in Gulltown all she had brought with her were mountain clothes. Lady Marya even had a seamstress come to fit the gowns.  They found a jeweled hairnet for her hair, gold with blue sapphires. When, Mya looked in the mirror she saw a Lady worthy of the Vale and the Stormlands. _Maybe,_ she thought,  _Maybe I do want it._  

Each night, she ate with Davos, his wife, and two remaining sons. His elder sons had all died fighting for Stannis. _What a waste._  The last night of their stay in Cape Wrath, she ate with only Lord Davos and Marya. 

"My Lord, you must be careful when you go to Storm's End," Lady Marya said. "The dragon queen will hear of it."

Davos nodded, "We plan, too. This is merely a visit on the way back North."

"Yes, I don't wish to be the Lady of Storm's End. The Vale is enough for me. I never wanted to leave the mountain," Mya told Davos' wife.

"I see, my lady," she said. "And now you have left to see more of these seven kingdoms."

"And when we are finished, she will return to the Vale and her Lord husband," Davos said with firmness. _Will I?_

"hmm.." said Marya. "Does this King in the North plan to bend to the dragon queen?"

"He can't do anything without his bannermen consent," Davos said.

"I've seen many a king do what they want. Isn't that why they are king?"

"My lady wife, it is not so simple," Davos responded. 

"As you say," she said. "This one looks like the last King, she does. Just as stunning." Marya pointed her wine glass at Mya. "Make her Queen of the South."

"Ha! I'm no Queen," Mya said. "And I had to pledge myself to the King in the North and to my Lord husband in the Vale to get my name."

"If we all could pledge ourselves to the King in the North," she japed. Davos narrowed his eyes at his lady wife. 

"Oh we've heard all the stories," she continued. "Handsome and brave. Aemon the dragonknight reborn. They say his sister-wife is the most beautiful lady in the North."

Mya laughed out loud, Davos corrected his wife, "She is his cousin."

"Are you sure?" Marya asked.

"My Lady, I know the man." he almost yelled. "And it would be impossible for him to be both the son of a dragon and the son of Ned Stark."

"If you say," she said. Mya laughed to herself. 

"It would make things easier if he just married the dragon queen, too, would it not," Marya asked her husband. Mya almost spit out her wine.

"Well, don't look at me like that," she said to her husband. "It's a practical solution. Isn't he saying he's part Targaryen. That's what Aegon did and Rhaegar for that matter. Two wives to keep the peace."

"I'd sooner believe Sansa Stark to take two husbands. Then that man...I mean the King to take two wives." Mya said. 

"Oh surely, he would love two beautiful women," Lady Marya responded. Giving her Lord husband a sly look, "Most men do." 

Now, Mya was beside herself at the thought, "My lady forgive me. That man is so mopey. Pretty yes but he never smiles." She waved her hand at Davos' protests. "Oh, I can imagine how he got a woman. But keeping one...let alone keeping two..."

"Aye, I can't imagine one woman ever bringing peace, let alone two," Davos said with a sour look on his face. He took a long drag of his ale. The two women laughed. 

"Oy, two women are perfectly fine," his wife said. "As long as no man is there to cause trouble." Marya laughed even louder and poured Mya more wine. 

Mya was enjoying the Seaworths company. She was becoming quite fond of Lady Marya, who claimed she was no lady but a smuggler's well-dressed wife. Even Lord Davos was growing on her. She imagined he was the type of father she would have liked to have.  At Dragonstone she had longed for her mountain when she was not practicing in the yard, learning swordplay with the king. Then she met Yaya, she still missed home just not as much. At least she had a friend, a friend who was a bastard girl like her. Here in Davos' fine keep with a warm fire, hearty food, and good company...They were like her, too. _We aren't supposed to be here. Bastards and smugglers, whores and the like. Yet, here we are planning alliances, trading in secrets. Perhaps, we are the best people for such work._

They drank and laughed for a few hours longer. Mya felt the drink go to her head, it was not unpleasant. Lady Marya whispered in her husband's ear and he seemed surprised at first but nodded. 

"My Lady, it is winter and this keep can be very drafty at night," she said. "How have you been staying warm without a Lady's maid?"

"Well, I've never had a Lady's maid to keep me warm," she said. "I suppose when I return to the Vale, I'll have to find one."

"Such a shame, my Lady," Marya said. "I wish I had one to spare you. Why don't you join us in our chambers, tonight?"

"In your chambers?" Mya clarified.

"Yes, my dear, we can keep warm and if you'd like enjoy each other's company," she said. Mya thought Davos looked slightly embarrassed. She gave him a warm smile.

"I supposed there is no harm. Though it would be best not to tell the King," she said with a chuckle. "I'm sure he would find it most 'dishonorable'." Even Davos smiled at that. Mya was truly surprised by the Onion's Knight willingness. _It must be the drink._  

The three retired to the Lord's Chambers of the keep, which was furnished just as tastefully as the rest of the home. The bed was large and Lady Marya gave Mya a beautiful woolen silk dressing gown lined with fur. It was the finest thing Mya had ever worn to sleep in. _I didn't think I would like something so fine. But this is quite nice_ , she thought. It did not stay on long. Soon Mya was having almost as much fun as she had with Yaya and the Velaryon lordling a sen week before. 

In the morning, she realized she had been to in her cups to remember many of the details of her night with Lord and Lady Seaworth. Everyone was in good spirits and Mya figured the night was a success. She was sad it had been her last night in Cape Wrath. Lady Marya seemed sad to see her go as well. She even gifted Mya with the dressing gown along with the gowns and hairnet she had already given her. 

They left to take a small ship to Storm's End, mooring out of view of the castle and taking a skiff to land at night. It took them a day to reach Shipbreaker Bay. Davos helped her into the skiff with her small trunk of belongings. She would need to the look of a Lady at Storm's End. The Marcher lords, the people of the Stormlands, they will see Robert and Renley in you, he told her. That would be a good thing. 

With Stannis gone the castle had given nominal support to the token Tyrell forces left in the Stormlands meaning they were pledging their fealty to Daenerys. Mya knew very little else of the situation at the castle. She wanted to ask Davos how the King in the North intended her to pledge to both him as Lady consort of the Vale and to Daenerys as the Lady Baratheon. _Does he intend me to be two people?_ She thought Davos would not appreciate the question and decided to hold her tongue.

Crossing the bay was rough, the Onion Knight was an adept seaman for an older man. Leading them past treacherous rocks and navigating the tides. Approaching Storm's End, Mya was awed. The huge round drum tower was a perfect sphere. _Only magic could have made such a place._  The Eyrie was more beautiful but Storm's End was impressive, powerful. They rowed through a watery cave that led them underneath the castle walls. Reaching, a rocky landing in the cavern near a portcullis, Davos helped Mya out of the skiff leading her to the gate. Shortly, a tall man walked toward them with a torchlight. 

"Ser Davos," he said. "You bring my grandniece?"

"Ser Estermont," he greeted the man. "Yes, I do." Holding the torch closer to the gate the old knight peered into Mya's face. 

"Well, no doubt she's a Baratheon even if she has taken the Arryn name," he said. "Come quickly. The Tyrell's must not know she is here."

Mya took a deep breath and closed her eyes, she would meet what was left of her father's family. A family she had never wanted.  She cursed the King in the North and his Queen Sansa. She cursed them with all her heart for making her want more than her mountain and her donkeys.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternative name for this chapter: Unicorns do exist in Westeros.


	11. Bran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It is done," he said. She only nodded asking no questions, wanting no details.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sitting on this chapter because I wanted to get the next one done and post them both together.

**Bran**

The raven perched outside the window of a room on the far side of the Great Keep. The room was large and opulent, meant for distinguished guests. The man inside was not the highest of Lords, only the wealthiest. The bird watched the man sit a table with papers, reading a note he had recently received. 

The man got up and pulled a heavy dark winter cloak over his long woolen jacket. He left the room making sure to lock the door behind him.

The bird picked at the window latch, it wasn't long before he could push the window open. Flying to the table, he located the note and picked it up. Several other papers had also been left out. At the last second, the raven thought to take those as well.  Leaving the room in the manner he had entered the bird flew to the top of the Burnt Tower to hide the documents.

Circling the castle, he watched the small man walk across the yard towards the First Keep. It had not snowed in almost three sen weeks. Most of the snow had turned hard like ice, in other places you could see the ground. Torches were lit, the thin crescent moon was high in the dark sky. The yard was empty save for a few servants hurrying to and through. 

The man entered the First Keep, the raven imagined him climbing the stairs. He perched on a window on the uppermost level. A dark hooded figure was fidgeting in the corner when the small man entered. 

"My Queen, you summoned me?"

"Aye, mi'lord," a voice said. "She did."

"Who are you?" he asked the hooded man.

"The man the queen sent to kill you," he said standing up with a large dagger in his hand. Littlefinger quickly pulled out his own dagger. A beautiful weapon of valyrian steel and dragonbone. 

"Sansa would'nt do that," Lord Baelish said. The raven listened intently from his perch just inside the window. 

"Not that queen," the man said. "The lion cunt wants you an' the she-bitch dead." The two men were in a standoff daggers pointed at each other. 

Lord Baelish sighed, "My good man, I'm sure we can work something out," he said still holding the dagger. "Don't be foolish. I am very rich and can make you so."

"That Lannister whore'll hunt mi down n' take mi head if I don't bring her the red bitch's head," he said.

"We can work that out as well," said Littlefinger. "Let me give Cersei what she wants."

"Aye, ya trickin me," he said dagger held high. "Ya not gonna kill a highborn lady."

"I assure you it wouldn't be the first time I've killed a high-born lady," Lord Baelish smiled. The raven thought he was bragging to the would-be assassin. 

"It seems we have a problem, my lord." another figure can out of the shadows. The raven quietly flew into the room to land on her shoulder. 

"My Queen?"

"I believe you just threatened the Queen's life, Lord Baelish," said the woman, the direwolf stood between her and the hired attacker facing Littlefinger. 

"You misunderstood me," he said. 

"I don't believe, I did," she said. "You were very clear." Her words hung frozen in the air. She rested a hand on the wolf's head. 

"I was only trying to.." he started to say. 

"To what...?"

"To make another suggestion to our attacker," he seemed nervous. The raven squawked never taking his eyes off the small lord. "You do not need the king."

"I do not?" she said.

"We could become very rich, your grace," he said. "You're a clever girl. You have his heir in your belly. You don't need him."

"And once the child is birthed and weaned you'll not need me, my lord," she said. "Isn't that the case. Just as you did not need Lady Lysa."

"Lady Lysa was not well. You know that" he said. "Pushing her out the window was mercy." The raven squawked again startling Lord Baelish. 

"Mercy, I see," she said pulling her hood back. Littlefinger's eyes grew wide. The face was not that of the Queen but the face that he had not seen in many years. It was a face the raven had not seen in so very long, either. He almost forgot his purpose as he saw in the torchlight the high cheekbones and blue eyes of his mother.

"Cat," Lord Baelish whisper. "It can't be.."

"It can, my lord," the voice changing ever so slightly to that of an older woman as the figured moved closer to Lord Baelish. 

"You're alive?" he asked.

"Oh no," she said. "I am very much dead. Just as you'll be." 

Littlefinger drew his dagger higher, pointing it at the figure who continued to move forward. The raven still perched on its shoulder taking in the whole scene. The direwolf gave a silent snarl. The hired attacker faded into the background and was grabbed by the large hand of another person hidden in the shadows. 

"You plot and you scheme," she said. "But the north knows. The north remembers."

"You are making a mistake," he said. "The knights of the Vale will not stand for this."

"Oh I assure you they will, my lord," she said. 

"I loved you Cat," he said. 

"More fool you, Lord Baelish," the figure of Cat said. 

Littlefinger lunged for the figure of Catelyn first. The raven met him flying into his face forcing him back. Ghost continued to move towards him. He was backed against the edge of the large paneless window. The bird flapping in his face, Ghost leaped up on his chest pushing him through the window. The raven flew out with him watching the body fall with a thud.

A man and a woman walked toward the broken body and then looked up at the tower to see Arya Stark and the Lady Knight standing in the window. They hurried away to alert the guards

Bran woke with a sudden jolt in his chamber. His breath heavy. Meera was sat near the hearth making arrow points. "It is done," he said. She only nodded asking no questions, wanting no details. Together they waited until it was time to tell the castle that Lord Baelish, Lord Protector of the Vale was dead. 

They did not have to wait long. A guard was soon at his door, the castle was in an uproar as the crescent moon dipped lower into the sky. The Queen was missing. Lord Baelish found with his back broken. Rumors of Lannister spies in the castle. Bran sent out search parties for Sansa. _They won't find her unless they look in the crypts._ Finally, he called an audience in the Great Hall. 

Entering the large room, Bran had Meera wheel him to the head table. He did not want this role. He never wanted this role. He had told Jon and Sansa as much so many times. But they are gone and he must play his part until they returned. The Great Hall was tense waiting for Bran to speak. He called for the attacker to be brought in. A ragged large man, his hands bound, was dragged before him.

"Tell your truth and I may find mercy for you," Bran commanded him using the words Sansa had given him. _She made me practice so many times._  The attacker described how he had been sent by men in King's Landing in the service of Cersei Lannister. He claimed that he came with another. They had been hired to kill both Sansa and Lord Baelish as traitors to the throne. But he was stopped before he could kill either. He has not seen his partner since. 

"If you were stopped, then how did Lord Baelish find himself with a broken back?" he asked.

"Ah..t'was an accident," he said. "A bird flew at him and he fell out the window."

The knights and men shouted for his head. Bran silenced them, he was weary. _This is a game his sister wanted to play._   _When the Others come it will hardly matter._

"Is there anything more you would wish to say?" Bran asked.

"Lord Baelish offered me good coin," the man said. "Said he'd kill the Queen in the North h'mself, he would." The room fell into shocked silence. All eyes on Bran waiting to see what he would do. 

"And did you take the coin?" Bran asked.

"Ack..told him it was a trick," the man said. "Then he said no...he'd killed a great lady before. Could do it again. I thought to take it. Then that big black bird came." The room went into an uproar. The Knights of the Vale yelling amongst themselves. Half saying they knew Lord Baelish was treacherous, the other half proclaiming his innocence. _It made no matter, he was dead._

Lord Beric from the Brotherhood Without Banners called for a trial. Many of the men agreed with him. Others called for the attacker to be hung. 

Bran looked to those around the hall his eyes falling on Lady Dayne and Brienne for help. He wished Arya would show her true face. She stayed hidden amongst the crowd watching the mummer's farce. Ashara Dayne gave him a kind look of reassurance from her place at a table just below them. He tried to remember the words Sansa had told him to speak. 

He raised his voice to ask, "Does your partner have my sister, the Queen?"

"Might be, your grace," he said. "Don't know. We split up to do the deeds."

"I can't give you justice. I'm not the King," Bran said. _I will never be the king._ Then addressing Lord Beric of the Brotherhood. "The King must hear of this immediately. Go to Eastwatch-by-Sea. We received word he is headed there. If you ride hard you'll arrive before he does. Take this man with you. The king will give him a trial."

"Yes, my prince," Lord Beric said peering at him with his one eye.  

"And Lord Beric, see if you can find my sister on the way," Bran added. The lightening Lord who had been brought back from the dead six times according to his men bowed to him. 

Lord Royce stood next, "And what of us, the Vale, your grace. Will we get justice?" he demanded. 

Bran shrugged, "Baelish is dead. There's  your justice."

"But who will lead us?" he asked. 

"I heard my cousin has a new wife," Bran said staring at the man. His cousin, Lord Robin Arryn was of an age as Bran maybe even younger. He couldn't image having a Lady wife. He motioned for Meera to start to wheel him out. Before turning back to Lord Nestor Royce. 

"I'm sure she would want you to be in charge of the Vale forces at Winterfell for now," he added. The Vale Lord smiled. Bran hoped that is what Sansa would have wanted him to say. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I'll say it is much harder to kill off a character than I ever imagined. Even a character everyone wants dead! My biggest thing was that I didn't want him to be killed and it to be total chaos. Jon and Sansa had to be as smart as possible about this. They had to ensure they still had Vale support, he had to in some way confess at least some of his crimes.
> 
> And as much as I wanted Sansa to actually swing the sword, it just didn't work. She was the architect. Originally both Alysanne and Bran as the Raven were supposed to be there. But as you can see Alysanne had to help Sansa out a few chapters ago and got put on the injury reserved list this chapter. Sansa will get hers though. :-)


	12. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She walked up to the box her face hardened. "My brother has a kind heart. Lord Baelish was a traitor and a criminal."
> 
> The men stared at Sansa. She ordered the box removed. Demanding to see the body. He is truly dead. His body white and lifeless, frozen from the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I didn't do single POVs I might have considered putting the last chapter and this chapter together. But I do single POVs so you get two chapters.  
> Apologies for typos and grammar I wanted to get this up alongside the previous Bran chapter. 
> 
> The other challenge I've had is that the events at Winterfell are happening at the same time as the events at Dragonstone/leaving Dragonstone. That's why there is a bit of going back and forth. 
> 
> As always Enjoy!

**Sansa**

"How far are we going?" Sansa asked her sister, who didn't respond. "You could at least talk to me." Arya was silent, leaving Sansa to wonder why her sister was angry with her. They had been riding for no more than an hour. Arya had retrieved Sansa from the crypts as soon as Bran had ended the meeting and tasked the Brotherhood with both taking the Lannister-hired attacker to Jon and finding her. Other parties had been sent out on the hopeless search for the Queen. _They will not find me where they are looking_. The younger Stark and Brienne had made sure that the parties went south and west while Arya took her east. 

The sisters came upon a hunting cottage about a league or two from Winterfell. A tiny hovel in a small clearing, it looked to Sansa as if it had not been used since winter had come. 

"This will have to do," Arya told her sister. Once inside Arya made a fire in the hearth. Sansa took in the modest surroundings. A table, a bench, and a small cot were all that filled the hut. 

"Shouldn't we go further?" she asked Arya. It had been hours since her supposed disappearance the Brotherhood would expect her to be farther. 

Arya looked at her, "You ride too slow. We won't be able to out ride the brotherhood much longer." Her sister continued to start the fire to warm up the room. "And they'll have Ghost with them. I'm surprised the beast isn't here already." Sansa sighed audibly, annoyed that her sister had not come to take her from the crypts and out of Winterfell as soon as Littlefinger was dead. _I don't ride slow, you waited too long_ , she wanted to say but before she could. Sansa felt a hand smack against her cheek with a hard slap.

"Arya," she screamed. 

"You have to at least look like someone attacked you and took you," she said. "And you deserved it."

"I did not," Sansa said. She also thought she did not deserve the arrow Arya shot at her, or the sword pointed at her in her own bedchamber. _She is so very angry with me._

"You're such a princess," her sister said.

"I am not," Sansa yelled back. "I'm a Queen."

Arya scowled at her sister. "You should've hung the attacker. You should've hung Littlefinger," she said. "And you shouldn't be hiding from Cersei."

"Arya this is the best way," Sansa said. "You don't know these people. You don't know how dangerous they are."

"I'm dangerous," Arya said walking towards the hut's only small window to look outside. "Have you even told our brother your plan?" The disdain seeping out of her voice. Sansa knew Arya meant Jon. In the short time, she had been back at Winterfell in disguise, she had barely hidden her disgust at their marriage, at Sansas's pregnancy. No matter how many times, Sansa insisted Jon was their cousin, Arya would not hear it. 

"I'll tell him when we get to Eastwatch," Sansa responded. _The gods willing he does not hear it before then._   Arya continued to scowl and tell her sister exactly what she thought of Sansa's plan. Too tired to argue, Sansa let her sister be angry. She thought how much her little sister had changed. Taller now she was becoming quite pretty in the same why a wild horse was pretty. Maybe once this was all over, they would talk and cry and tell each other everything. Sansa prayed that Arya would love her, forgive her, and let her brush her hair.  

Sansa heard the sound of horses in the distance. _They're coming,_ she let the relief wash over her.Arya moved quickly, pulling the rope out of a saddle bag to tie Sansa hands around a post in the hut. 

"Really, is this necessary," Sansa asked. 

"Shut up," Arya said. "You're the one who wanted it to look like a kidnapping." Finishing she threw snow on the fire to put it out. She opened the rickety door to take the horses and leave Sansa. 

Sansa looked at her sister, "I'll send a raven from Eastwatch. You must watch over Bran while I'm gone." _Or more like he'll have to watch over you._  She added, "I'll tell Jon you wanted to see him." Arya's face softened, Sansa knew how much it pained Arya to have to wait. 

"Tell Jon I'm going to stick Cersei Lannister with the pointy end," she said.

"Please, be careful," Sansa gave her sister a sad smile knowing it was hopeless to try and stop her.  Arya nodded. "Arya, thank you." With that, the door closed and Arya was gone. 

Only, moments after her sister left the hut and the clearing there was a scratching at the door. Ghost bounded in, running straight for Sansa. Nuzzling against her face, licking her cheek, Sansa almost giggled like a girl before remembering how serious the situation. The beast quickly started to chew at the ropes that bound Sansa's hands. The clomp of horses was getting closer. 

"My lords," Sansa called out. The men rushed into the hut to see the Queen holding her bound hands to the direwolf's mouth as he continued chewing off the ropes. She looked worn with dark circles under her eyes. Her cheek still tingled where Arya had slapped her. 

"My Queen, are you alright?" Lord Beric said turning to his men. "Careful, the Lannister assassin may still be in the area."

"He left.. to search for firewood, I think," she claimed stumbling over her words just the right amount. "That was hours ago." She stared at the Lightning Lord who some said had been brought back from the dead more than 6 times. _5 times more than Jon_.

Lord Beric Dondarrion had been handsome once. The man before was as broken as any she had seen. Missing an eye, scars across his neck, withdrawn when not commanding. She could not imagine what he looked like underneath his tunic. Around him were his men, Thoros of Myr, the Hound, a boy named Gendry who was the image of Renly Baratheon and others she did not know. She saw the man who attacked her tied and riding on the back of a horse with one of the Brotherhood. _Good Bran followed my instructions. Jon will give him a trial and he will be allowed to join the Watch. More than he deserves._ Sansa thought.

The men searched the area and found nothing but tracks that led nowhere. Arya had made sure of that when she brought Sansa to the hut. Lord Reed was with the Brotherhood and gave her a knowing look. Sansa saw the Hound standing out in the clearing. She gulped. Having managed to avoid him at Winterfell as he had kept to the barracks given over to Lord Beric's men. She would be forced to speak with him on the journey.

'The little Lady Mormont had insisted on coming with us to search for you," Lord Reed told her. "It was all your brother could do to convince her otherwise." Sansa smiled thinking about Lyanna Mormont. "She was very worried. As is the entire castle. 

Lord Beric added, "Your disappearance has been kept quiet outside the castle but all will be happy to see you back at Winterfell."

"Lady Mormont and the others will have to wait. I will not be going to Winterfell," she said.

"My Queen," Lord Beric responded. "Is that wise? It is a long ride to Eastwatch."

"You question my wisdom, my Lord?" she asked

The Lightning Lord sighed. "You are right, too, sers," Sansa said. "It'll not change my decision. Cersei means to have my head. I would rather her think she is succeeding for a bit longer."

"Your grace you will have to ride double," Lord Beric said, "We meant to ride fast and quick. We do not have an extra horse."

Sansa noticed a long box being carried on one of the horses. "What is this?" 

Lord Reed spoke again, "The body of Lord Baelish. The young prince said to send it back to the Fingers."

She walked up to the box her face hardened. "My brother has a kind heart. Lord Baelish was a traitor and a criminal."

The men stared at Sansa. She ordered the box removed. Demanding to see the body. _He is truly dead._ His body white and lifeless, frozen from the cold.

 "I will ride this horse," she said looking at the men surrounding her. 

The red priest Thoros of Myr addressed her, "My Queen, it is not good to leave a body in these times," _He is right_ she thought.

"Thank you Thoros of Myr, we do not want to add to the army of the dead," she said. "Tie the body to the back if you must. We will burn it when the moon falls."  _  
_

Shall we leave this place?" Lord Reed asked Sansa.  She nodded and the men quickly tied Littlefingers body to the back of the horse. They mounted and left the hut behind them. 

The group rode by the light of the moon and stars in the cold clear sky. Sansa could hear the soft sounds of the body dragging through the snow. Lord Reed was mounted on a chestnut stallion riding to her right while Ghost padded next to her left.  Men of the Brotherhood rode in front and behind. She could feel the Hound's eyes on her. Judging her. He told her once that her Father and brothers were killers. _I am killer too now._

"The Bolton's would wear the skins of their enemies. Joffrey made me look at my father's head," she said to Lord Reed. 

"You're not the Bolton's or Joffery, my Queen," he said. 

"Am I?" she asked.

"Lord Baelish wanted to destroy all you and the King are working towards," he reminded her. "He would've let the army of the dead come and take us all if he could lord over the corpses." Sansa did not respond. 

As they made their way, the crannog man reached into his saddlebag and handed her a small bundle. "Here," he said. 

Sansa knew immediately what it was. "My notebooks," she said grasping them and clutching them tightly to her chest. 

She had taken nothing with her when she left Winterfell. Arya warned her that even taking the smallest bundle would raise suspicions as to the nature of her supposed kidnapping. Her clothing was quickly becoming tighter and tighter. It was not a bother to leave those things behind. But she lamented her notebooks. 

"Thank you, my lord," she said. 

"It was no bother," he replied. "In truth, the young prince sent them along. I believe he included a few documents from Lord Baelish's chambers."  

"Oh," she said.

"He was very much a traitor, my Queen." Lord Reed told her glancing back at the body dragging behind her. Lowering his voice so the men of the Brotherhood could not hear, "Killing him was just. You must believe that." Sansa understood the truth of his words. She also understood that even the most guilty of men deserved a trial. 

"This will not happen, again," she told Lord Reed. "The next traitor will have a trial."

The moon began to fall, when they made camp. Thoros insisted a large bonfire be made to burn Littlefingers body. While some of the men argued over keeping his fine garments, rings, and mockingbird sigil. Sansa insisted all go into the fire. His belongings were cursed she told the men. If they wanted to fight, fight over the ashes. 

She watched the body until the skin melted away keeping vigil through the darkest part of the day until a half moon rose again. Thoros, Lord Beric, and Lord Reed watched her. They talked of the Long Night that would not end until the Great War was fought. Lord Reed told of the Isle of Faces and Thoros promised that the Lord of Light would protect them. They all agreed the last hero, the Prince that was Promised would lead them. Sansa wanted to laugh at them all. _What gods are there? What heroes? Men do not know a woman's pain. They do not know what men do, what woman do when they are desperate or pained or simply just evil. They could not imagine the horror that was Ramsey. The beatings in the throne room. What gods allow a girl to watch her father be killed? Only to see her beaten and raped. We can not rely on the gods to protect us. We must have laws that do so._

Riding again by the light of the moon, the Hound spoke with her when Lord Reed stopped to make water. Ghost was next to hear and bared his teeth at the Hound. She gently rested her hand on his head to calm him. 

"Little Dove, I see you are Lady of Winterfell and a Queen," he said.

"And I am not a dove. You should refer to me as your grace," she commanded standing as straight as she could.

"Your grace," he growled. "They singers say it's not a dove but an owl you have."

"My owl was injured in the attack..my sis.." she started to slip. Had Arya shown her face yet a Winterfell? Had she healed Alysanne as claimed she would? She had not done so while the Hound was there. Sansa knew that. "Lord Reed informed me that Lady Dayne is caring for the bird." The lie formed easily enough. He stared at her long and hard. _He knows my lies_. _He knows the kidnapping was all ruse. Just as he knows Cersei is trying to kill me._ The Hound walked back to his horse. She called behind him, "I do not sing anymore, Ser Clegane," she said. 

She heard him laugh saying "And I do not kill anymore, your grace."

The ride was hard, the cold bitter. They stopped to make camp whenever the moon fell and the sky went black eating stale bread, hard cheese, dried meat, and whatever they could hunt around the fire. Before retiring to a few small tents. Sansa took the opportunity of firelight to write or draw in her notebooks. When the men were not paying attention to her, she gazed upon the rough drawing of Jon sleeping. She missed him so much. 

Once the fire died, Sansa huddled under the furs with Ghost in a tent to sleep. Her stomach was growing, she felt a quickening in her womb. Still, she knew she had many moons before the babe would come. Jon would be angry at her for traveling so far in Winter and with child. _His child._ Ghost even seemed angry with her. Occasionally shrugging her off when she tried to pet him. She was not sure Jon would understand why she had to leave Winterfell let alone making a direwolf understand. _If Cersei knows where I am she will find a way to kill me._ She tried to explain it to the wolf. His red eyes only turned away and he ran off to hunt. 

Ghost would come back eventually to curl next to her while she slept underneath the furs and to walk alongside her as she rode. When he returned she would find some small piece of dried meat for him and rub behind his ears. _There handsome beast. I'm your liege lady you must protect me and you will never want for mead, meat, or ear rubs,_ she teased and cooed. 

It took a fortnight and a half for them to arrive at Eastwatch-by-Sea. The party had been blessed with little snow and no blizzards. Sansa no longer prayed but she thanked the old gods and the new for the weather. The men of the Night's Watch had been expecting them just as they were expecting the King in the North any day now. Though, they did not expect a Queen. 

Cotter Pyke who commanded the fortress greeted her as warmly as the hardened man could. He apologized for the modest accommodations. It had been over a century since a Queen had visited them. Sansa attempted to give him her warmest smile but feared she just looked tired. 

Exhaustion overtook her, she fell into the bed in the small chamber they gave her at Eastwatch. Her nightmares that had subsided during the journey returned as she slept. It was Ghost that woke her nudging her cheeks. Rising, she decided to walk the battlements and the courtyard. Ghost joined her as she followed the torchlight to explore the castle. 

Reaching the end of a long walkway, she heard a familiar sound, the hoot of an owl. _It could not be, not yet._ Turning to see the snowy white owl perched on a railing blinking her big owl eyes at Sansa. A smile came to her face and she held out her arm for Alysanne to perch on. Her wing healed, she was a majestic as ever. She gently stroked the bird's feathers before letting her fly off to find a comfortable place to rest. 

Two days later, though it was always hard to tell what was day. They fell to telling days by the rise and fall of the moon, instead of the sun. A ship flying the Stark banners was spotted approaching the port when the moon was high overhead. Sansa nearly ran with Ghost at her heels to the port as soon as she heard. The men of the Watch told her it would still be an hour before the ship would dock and it's people disembark. It mattered naught to her. 

Standing alone in the dark gray purple gown she had worn the entire journey and a black fur lined cloak she had made from remnants found at Eastwatch. Sansa stared at the ship as it rocked in the water moving ever so gradually toward the shore. Jon was on that ship. _Her wolf would be in her arms._ She waited while her stomach did flips. _He does not know I will be here. Unless_ Sansa looked at Ghost next to her. She thought perhaps he did know. _It will not make him any less angry._  

The wind blew her long auburn waves to the side, a red banner announcing her presence. The salt spray pricked her face. A dark shadow came over the moonlight and starlight causing the Queen to look up. Sansa's mouth dropped open when she saw a massive dragon floating through the dark sky. Black on Black the beast was terrifying. Ghost barred his teeth. She remembered her nightmares and told herself she had the heart of a wolf.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what happens next chapter!!!! And ohh the angst that is coming! 
> 
>  
> 
> I want to give credit where credit is due. There was an amazing fan picture on tumblr of Sansa dragging Littlefinger's body behind a horse. That inspired me to add that to this chapter. The link has been found thanks to ThamasD. The pic here. https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/002/371/752/large/marta-danecka-sansa-on-the-horse2.jpg?1461127343


	13. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Every part of him had missed her. Every part of her had made him so angry.'  
> Jon is more than shocked to find Sansa at Eastwatch-by-Sea when he arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't much to say about this other than finally!

**Jon**

"Why are you here?" Jon held Sansa tight in his arms. Her head buried into his neck. "Why in the seven hells are you here?" He pulled her away his hands gripping her arms. Jon scanned his Queen's face probing her deep blue eyes for answers. Ghost nudged at him, greeting him with a lick to the hand. He rubbed the wolf's head with his free hand, not letting go of Sansa with his other arm.

"Your grace," Howland Reed stepped forward. "Shall we go to the Keep. There is much to discuss." Jon nodded, wrapped his arm around Sansa's shoulder and kissed her forehead as they began to walk down the dock towards Eastwatch's Keep with Ghost at their heels. Jon thought he had lost her. Relief washed over him leaving a hint of anger rising in his belly. 

The journey back North had been the longest of Jon's life. He had known fear at Hardhomme. He had known grief many times over. _The news of Sansa's disappearance._ The news that Lord Varys, the spider and Daenerys' advisor, had brought in Jon's last days at Dragonstone was so much more. 

 The final arrangments for shipments of dragonglass to be brought North had been agreed upon the day after the feast. Lord Varys entered just as the last agreement was signed to give Tyrion and Daenerys the daily reports. Amongst the various intelligence, it was said that the Queen in the North was missing and presumed either dead or taken to Cersei. The silence around the room had been louder than death. 

Jon had raged in a fury unlike any that had filled him before. Davos and Mya Stone had departed for Cape Wrath the previous day and there was no one to calm. Men from his guard had tried their best but there was little to be done. Furniture was broken, he took his sword to the walls.  In the end, it was the dragon queen that had come to his room to attempt to soothe him. 

She spoke of her own loss. How her first love had been killed by blood magic along with her unborn son. Her words, her story, seemed to reach him. Jon listened quietly while sitting in the corner of the chamber he had been given. 

Yet, when she tried to tame Jon, he pushed her away. Daenerys Targaryen wanted more than for him to listen to her sad story. She asked him if he remembered two nights past, the night of the feast. He gave her a blank stare before shouting at her to leave his room. Falling to his knees wondering what god to pray to, Jon was a broken man. 

Every moment on the ship, Jon felt more and more helpless. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the dragon queen hovering over him even though he had pushed her away. He watched the crew with darting suspicious eyes. Until, the day the dragon appeared, the one called Rhaegal was spotted following the ship. The Queen was supposed to be leading her army through the reach. Jon could not fathom what one dragon was doing this far North. _It is here for me,_  his thoughts told him.  

At Eastwatch, he planned to take this dragon and this Brotherhood Without Banners meeting him to hunt down the person who took Sansa. _Hunting the King of the Others will have to wait._ But when the ships arrived, there she was standing on the dock. Tall and pale, her auburn hair blowing in the window with Ghost by her side, torches lit around her for it was still the long night. 

As they continued to walk toward the keep, Jon heard her whisper that she was sorry. He pulled her closer. She buried her face into his chest adding that she had his child in her belly. He squeezed her arm telling her he knew. 

When they reached the main buildings of Eastwatch at the foot of the Wall, Jon's men were quickly settled. They had been expecting them. The rooms were more than ready. He sensed his Queen's hand in the preparations. Introductions were made between the men of the Watch, Jon's small party, and the Brotherhood. 

Lord Beric told of how they found Sansa on their way to meet him. That they had only found the man who attacked the now dead Lord Baelish. Jon thanked the men for finding his Queen. Telling them they would meet on the morrow to go over what to do with the prisoner. 

Observing the rest of the Brotherhood, Jon saw a ragtag bunch with a fierceness about them. The man with a burnt face called the Hound was there, stern and unforgiving. Sansa had told him about the man, who he remembered as Joffery's dog. Was he as changed as he claimed to be? The Lady Knight had said he had been with Arya. Jon narrowed his eyes at him when he saw the way the Hound gazed at his Queen. 

Even worse, was the man in the faded red cloak, Thoros of Myr. _Was the world having a jape at his expense? Another red priest. They are like vermits in a garbage heap._ Sansa claimed she hardly noticed the man and waved off Jon's concerns. _Because you are godless my queen._

 As he was shown his rooms, Jon knew he had his doubts about the Brotherhood's story. He told Cotter Pyke, the commander at Eastwatch, that he would take his meal in private with his Queen. He invited Lord Reed to join him. If he wanted answers Jon knew he would need more than Lord Beric's story and Sansa's reticent responses.

They ate little of the simple food brought to them in the small private rooms given to Jon. The candlelight was dim, even the hearth fire seemed dimmer this far North. Jon wondered when the last time they had seen light was. _Here, they lost light before Winterfell did._ Sansa began speaking of her pregnancy and of Arya's return. His emotions a mix of relief and concern, Arya and a child. Sansa was not sure but believed her pregnancy was 5 moon turns now. 

It was Lord Reed who was the most forthcoming. Recounting the attempt on Sansa's life, thwarted by her owl, Alysanne. Sansa's planned disappearance while Lord Baelish was unceremoniously pushed out of a window in the First Keep.  

Listening, he felt the rage grow in his stomach, "I see," was all Jon could manage to say. How could Sansa have planned an act so dangerous with a babe in her belly? _5 moon turns._  Her face looked concerned. She had hardly spoken.

Now she spoke, "Cersei, wants me dead. She wants us dead." Lord Reed nodded in agreement. They continued to eat the rest of the meal. Few words were spoken. It was not long before Lord Reed excused himself to rest. Jon called for a steward to come take away the remaining food and dishes telling them to leave the ale. He would need the ale. 

Sansa walked into the inner chamber where there were two hard wooden chairs, a bed, and a small table. A fire glowed in the hearth, the fire shining in her hair. He followed her into the room with a tankard in his hand. _She is so beautiful and I am so angry with her._

Glaring at her as she sat in the chair, hands in her lap, Jon could feel the rage continuing to boil inside of him. Drinking from his tankard of ale, his mind reeled with the tale Lord Reed had recounted. He thought he had lost her. He could've lost her. Traveling in winter, scheming to kill Baelish, the lies. He could still lose her. His thoughts kept spinning and spinning. He clutched his hand.

"What were you thinking?" he yelled at Sansa. She remained silent facing the hearth not moving closer to warm herself, not backing away from him, not doing anything. It only enraged him more. "Leaving Winterfell like that! Making everyone think you were lost."

Throwing the tankard onto the floor, he watched Sansa still blank. He went to kneel in front of her wanting to shake every bone in her body until she reacted. _I will never hit her but if she didn't have my babe in her belly I 'd have a difficult time not shaking her until her head rang like a bell._ "And everything else you've done. That business with Mya Stone and Lord Arryn? Another red priest in our midst? Littlefinger? He's dead. You did that." Her face remained a mask as he knelt in front of her, he could see she was kneading her hands together.

"Not telling me things. Not sending word of a babe in your belly. I know. Sansa, dammit I know." He stood up walking towards the wall, pulling back his arm he punched a hole in the plaster.

"Stop!" she screamed. He turned to face her. Jon could feel the fire burning on his face. 

"You want me to stop?" he screamed back at her. "Do you understand what you've done?"  
He walked back and punched the wall again.

"Please stop," she said,  her voice back to a whisper. She stared at her hands. Her chest was heaving as she tried to control her emotions. "You're...you're scaring me."

"I'm scaring you? I'm scaring you? What do you know of fear?" his voice low and deep. He knelt in front of her again placing his hands on her arms. "Tell me what do you know of fear."

Still looking down, she started to move her mouth then stopped.

"Tell me!" he yelled. "I was terrified. I thought I lost you. I thought I lost our babe. Or don't you care?"

He searched her face begging for an answer to come forth. There was nothing. "You don't care do you? You just want to use people to get a crown."

"Everything," she said. "I know everything of fear." Looking at him out of the side of her eyes, "It is the long night. There is only fear. Why do you think I did it?" 

He laughed. "Will you kill me next? You've got a babe. What do you need me for?"

"You're being a monster," she said with disgust. 

Falling into the other chair in the room, he almost laughed again. "My love, we're both monsters, now."

She nodded her head without looking at him. _She sees it too._  

"I think, I'll go to sleep," she told him. Her body moved slowly towards the bed. Sansa undid her the stays on her gown. It was loose, he could see the roundness of her belly. The rest of her tall, her limbs slender, elegant. She held her head high, even though he could see her hands shaking. _He had scared her and he didn't care. Every part of him had missed her. Every part of her had made him so angry._

Jon watched the fire die down into the late hours. As with most nights, Sansa started thrashing in the bed, he debated whether to wake her or let her suffer her nightmare. He woke her. Wrapping his arms around her to cradle her rigid body. Whispering to her that everything would be ok. _Except that is a lie, my love._ When Sansa calmed, opening her eyes, he let go and laid next to her on the bed, exhausted.

 _It was pointless, all pointless._ "I don't want to scare you," he said, his body stiff not touching hers.

"I know," she answered. "You're wrong we're not monsters."

 _My love what are we if we are not monsters._ "I would never hurt you, not ever," he said staring up at the ceiling

"Yes, I know," she said. He sighed and took her hand in his.

"You will have to fix the wall," she said.

"I know," he responded, a slight smile forming on his month. They laid like that the sound of their breath filling the room. He closed his eyes. Sansa brought his hand to her belly. _His child, their child._ He felt the firm growing bump move up and down.

Jon opened his eyes when he felt the bed move and Sansa climb on top of him. She straddled her legs over his thighs, her hands on his chest. He looked up at her in a simple woolen shift. Her auburn waves glowing in the candlelight. The hair had grown so very long and full. 

"Are you a dragon or a wolf?" she asked

"I...I don't.."

"Are you a dragon or a wolf?" she said again.

"I want to be a wolf, always a wolf," he told her. She touched his face leaning closer to him.

"I see a wolf with dragon's breath," she told him. His hand reached up getting tangled in her hair. _Kissed by fire. Kissed by dragon's breath._ He pulled the long waves firmly until her face met his. She refused to kiss his lips. Instead, bringing her lips to his cheeks. 

"When I get close, I'm melting," she whispered into his ear.  "Everything is melting until we both drown." Her hair hung around his face a sea of fiery waves. He pulled harder to make her cry out. 

"You want to drown?" he asked. 

"I want to drown in the darkness. I want you to do what you did in the crypts," she said. He could hear the firmness in her voice. He felt the weight of her body on him. 

He wanted to tell her he didn't remember. "That wasn't me."

"Who was it?"

Jon thought for a moment, in his heart he knew the answer. "It was the wolf,"

"Then be the wolf," she said. 

"Sansa, I can't hurt you,"

She moved away from his face. Sitting upright above him, she pressed her hands hard into his chest. "I said, be the wolf,"  she paused adding. "Like in the crypts."

"I don't.." He wanted to tell her he didn't remember. His mind had left him when they were together in the chamber with the hot spring pool. But he did remember the marks he found on her back. The scratches and bruises she said she wanted. _We are both monsters. We are both wolves._

He placed his hands on her stomach, on his babe. _Could he do what she wanted and not hurt the child?_  He saw in her eyes that she wanted him to try. 

Inhaling, "Take this off," he told her. She did as he requested. His hands ran down to her thighs and he dug his nails deep into her skin. 

Staring up at her, he pulled her hips forward onto his stomach, then his chest until she was practically sitting on his face. Her hands grasping the headboard, he devoured every inch of her cunt. Stopping only to bite the insides of her thighs. Hard enough to leave his mark. Gentle enough to make her feel safe. He could hear her moans and feel her legs shaking. His hand made a loud crack each time he smacked her arse. She asked him to hit her harder. He did. 

Sansa tried to pull herself away when it became too much. Jon gripped her tighter not stopping until watery juices flowed from between her legs. He drank every drop of her. Shaking, she threw her body onto the bed. Her eyes wide pleading with him. _For what?_

"What?" he growled. "You want me to stop?" She closed her eyes and holding her breath before shaking her head no. On his knees, he was upright while he undid the breeches he was still wearing. Jon lost all control as he pulled her legs around his waist in one violent motion. His cock entered her and she gasped when he thrust into her. It didn't last long. Jon knew it wouldn't. It had been too long since he had been inside her. He held her thighs as long as he could pressing into her as he spilled his seed into her. When he dropped her legs, he fell next to her.

Jon watched his Queen lay on the bed in a daze her eyes staring into space. She let him pull the furs on the bed around them as he moved closer to her. 

"I missed you," he said. "And I love you."

"And you are angry with me," she said.

He smiled, "Yes, I am." She accepted that and placed her head into the crook of his shoulder. 

"We're not monsters," she said again. "We can be good?" It was more a question. _Could they be good?_  

"Aye, mayhaps," he answered. "If we aren't monsters, we're wolves," he added. 

"I'm not a wolf, my wolf was lost," she said in a dreamy voice. "I'm a lady, now."

"The lady of wolves," he told her. Jon thought he saw a small smile in the dim light. 

"Father always said the pack survives," she reminded him her voice trailing off as the gift of sleep came.  _Yes, my love the pack and it's lady will survive._ Jon kissed Sansa's forehead and watched her sleep.


	14. Alayaya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Impressive trick they've pulled off don't you think. Saying they're cousins, so he can fuck his sister. Don't you wish you would've thought of that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little detour to check in on our friends and enemies in the South while Sansa and Jon have some much need alone time...lol. 
> 
> And not to worry the next chapter will fill everyone in on that.

**Alayaya**

Alayaya's mother had called for her. She entered Chataya's solar taking a deep breath. Having only returned to King's Landing that morning, her body was tired from the journey. There was hardly time to change into a clean gown let alone rest. Her mother was sat at her table surrounded by papers, taking stock of the Brothel's stores and payments. The short days and the ever so long nights made good business for whores in winter. They had heard in the North that day never came now. Alayaya thought the Northern whores must be growing especially rich. 

"Well, my daughter, did you enjoy the dragons," her mother asked her eyeing the simple green velvet gown she wore. It was much too modest and plain for the brothel. Alayaya did not care. She liked the way it looked against her dark skin. How the gold threading glimmered in the candlelight. It was warm and elegant.  She had it made with her own money, coin she had earned from her work for Jaime Lannister and Lord Davos. 

"They're massive," she said the wonder in her voice remembering how Daenerys Targaryen's three dragons soared through the sky around Dragonstone. 

"Hmm..yes, well, they would be," Chataya said. "I see you've brought the Imp. He was never to return to this place."

"There was nowhere else," Alayaya said. Not knowing how to explain to her mother that while she brought the Imp to King's Landing for Jaime Lannister, she was to watch both of the brothers for the Starks. Her mother would not like that development. Jaime had tasked her with nothing more but take a message to Tyrion Lannister on Dragonstone. A message inviting the Imp to a secret meeting in King's Landing.  Alayaya had done that and so much more, agreed to much much more. 

"Lannisters, they only bring pain," she reminded her daughter. "I've given him a private room to meet with his brother. Go, see to them." Chataya waved her hand at her daughter turning back to the papers on her desk. 

Yaya went as quickly as she could. She knew her mother was not happy, she would never be happy.  _She thinks it's foolish to want more._   _We have money and comfort,_  she says. This is not a bad life for a Summer Islander in Westeros.  _I have more freedom than many wives she tells me._ Alayaya sighed _._ She had spent her life listening to stories from merchants and ship captains. _Stories of the world outside King's Landing._ Was it so wrong to want to see it?

Carrying a flagon a wine and cups, she went up the stairs and down the hall to a large room hung with silken clothes and heavy velvet winter drapes. The Lannister men sat at a table near a fireplace. She saw Bronn in the corner of the room giving her a toothy grin. She returned his smile and suddenly missed the young handsome Lords she met at Dragonstone. At least Lord Jaime Lannister was handsome to look at despite his missing hand. 

Keeping her disappointment to herself, Alayaya sat on Bronn's lap, attempting to entertain him while listening to the conversation happening behind her. The Lannister Lords were leaning toward each other over the table, wine glasses full. The Imp was not even drinking. Neither seemed concerned with her or Bronn. 

Tyrion was pushing Jaime to consider peace. Cersei had no heirs left what future does she have he claimed. Let Daenerys take the throne and spare thousands, tens of thousands of lives. Tyrion pointed out that they had Dorne and the Reach, half the Iron borne. The Riverlands were a wasteland and be of no use to anyone now that winter was here. 

Jaime said Cersei would never consider it. She had already captured two of the Sand Snakes. She was bent on revenge for her children's deaths. If she even knew Jaime was talking to Tyrion she would put both their heads on spikes or worse. 

The older Lannister pressed on questioning the claim Daenerys had to the throne. She was the daughter of a disposed ruler. Her rights had been lost by those who came before her. Alayaya had to agree with that. Most in King's Landing would see it that way. They would not be quick to embrace another Targaryen. 

"We have a solution to that," Tyrion said. "Cersei did not get her hands on all Robert's bastards." Alayaya thought she heard Jaime raise his eyebrows.

"And what of this King in the North?" Jaime asked. "No one has the North."

"She will make use of him," Tyrion waved his hand. "We have half an alliance already."

"And you mean to take Sansa Stark back?" Jaime questioned. 

"Perhaps...perhaps..."

"Is she not now married to the King in the North," Jaime reminded his brother. "Who says he is a Targaryen. 

"Yes, her half-brother or cousin now..." Tyrion laughed. "Impressive trick they've pulled off don't you think. Saying they're cousins, so he can fuck his sister. Don't you wish you would've thought of that." Even though she wasn't facing them, Alayaya could sense Jaime's annoyance. Even Bronn raised his eyebrows at that comment. 

Tyrion thought for a moment, "I suppose it wouldn't work for twins."

"You're still a nasty little Imp aren't you," Jaime said shaking his head. 

"What else would I be, brother," he said. "Join us. Leave this madness with Cersei."

"You know I cannot do that," Jaime said. "What of the North. You're sure they will join you?" 

"We are not worried. The North will bend. They need our help to fight this War for the Dawn they believe is coming." She could hear Jaime shift in his chair at the mention of the War for the Dawn. "You're very concerned with what the North does," Tyrion questioned him. 

"I made an oath once..." Jaime's voice trailed off. 

It was all Alayaya could do to pretend she was not listening. The dragon queen planned to make the North bend one way or another. The Imp will try to take Sansa Stark back if he can. Lord Davos would not like this. Alayaya did not know Sansa Stark, but she thought the Queen in the North would not like it much either. 

Tyrion began to laugh again, "My brother concerned with an oath. Things have changed since I've left." Tyrion rose to leave. "I think I shall go find a whore now. It's been such a long journey from Dragonstone. Please don't kill me before I can leave this hell hole of a city."

"Agreed, brother," Jaime said.

"Daenerys Targaryen will be our next Queen," was the last thing Tyrion Lannister said to his brother. 

Watching the Imp leave the room, Jaime stood telling Bronn it was time they returned to the Red Keep. Bronn seemed disappointed and promised he would come back later to enjoy Alayaya's company. 

Jaime turned toward her, seeming to notice Alayaya in the room for the first time. He studied her face for a long time. He was tall and looked down at her. 

"You did as you promised," he commented continuing to stare. Alayaya wondered if he meant to request her company. Except the look was not one of desire. He was thinking hard as he looked at her. "Do you know who your father is? he asked her. 

Alayaya shook her head. How could she know, her mother had worked in King's Landing running her brothel for almost 20 years. True, as the patroness, she took few clients. A man would have to pay a heavy price for Chataya's company even in the early days. Alayaya, always thought it possible her mother knew who her father was and found no reason to tell her. 

"Your mother never hinted who he might be?" he wondered picking his cloak up from the back of the high-backed chair. "I suppose she hardly knows. Could be any of the men that came here what 17-18 years ago?"

This angered her, "My mother said I'd be a Hill if Westeros Lords cared for their darker children, my lord," her voice tense as she spat out the lie. "Almost as good as you, I'd be." Jaime roared at that. Alayaya stood her arms crossed, defiant. She had friends now, Mya Stone was the Lady Arryn. She had even met the King in the North. One day she could marry a landed knight or poor second son. Her mother always told her even the mighty fall and the lowest of the low can rise. 

The door opened and Chatayaya entered in a flurry, "Yaya, don't you have an errand to run?"

Alayaya turned toward her mother, "Yes, of course." She started to hurry from the room before remembering to stop and give her goodbyes to Jaime Lannister and Broon. As she left she heard Jaime say, "Are you going to tell me who sired her?"

Running to her own rooms to find ink and parchment to record what the brothers talked of.  _Robert's other bastards, a scheme against the North, and worst of all Lord Tyrion means to take Sansa Stark back._  She must send this to Lord Davos at Storm's End. That's where he said he would be with Mya Stone, meeting the Storm Lords. Alayaya wrote as fast as she could. She added at the end that Jaime Lannister would not join the dragon queen, not yet at least. 

Her words were simple and efficient. Her mother had taken a drunk Maester as a lover for a few years when Alayaya was young in exchange for lessons for her daughter. Eventually, the old man drank himself to the grave. The lessons were enough to give Alayaya a basic understanding of writing and sums. All her mother thought she would need to one day run the brothel. 

Finishing the note, she took off through the snowy streets of King's Landing. Down the street of silk taking an extra turn here, turning in a circle there until she reached a nondescript wood door not far from the Mudd Gate. 

The door opened to a dark room, a middle-aged man in a Maester's robe but no chain motioned for her to enter. The room was crowded with books and papers. The home of a man who studied at the Citadel and never forged his chain. Or worse got it taken from him. He led her up a narrow set of stairs, she could hear the squawking of birds. Davos had told her of the place while on Dragonstone. A convenient service for those without castles but with enough coins, to send ravens.  She prayed the message would reach the King in the North's hand while he was still at Storm's End. Alayaya stayed no longer than necessary, the place reeked of musty books and birds. 

On her way back to the brothel, she meandered through the streets. Her mind dreaming of the future.  Mya had begged her to meet them in Gulltown, she remembered. Perhaps, she could arrange to go there, to take a place in the Vale with Mya. Turning a corner, she felt a hand reach out and grab her. She almost screamed before realizing that the hooded figure was none other than Jaime Lannister. 

"A long errand, I see," he said. Stunned Yaya nodded. 

"Lady Yaya, that's what they call you, now?" he asked. Again she nodded. "We did not finish our discussion walk with me." He gripped her arm with his left hand guiding her out of the Mudd gate to walk along the chilly river bank. 

The bank was busy despite the smaller winter crowds. Fish sellers, boats, and children playing in the snow bumped into each other. The ones that could afford it were wrapped in as much wool as possible  Others were shivering in rags. 

"Tell me truthfully, what do you make of the dragon queen?"

"My lord, She is ah.. well...fierce..small..but the dragons are large," Alayaya said.  "She wants the throne. Believes it's hers."

"Ha..she's not seen that ugly chair, yet," he said.  "And Sansa Stark was not at Dragonstone," he confirmed. 

"No, my lord, only the King in the North,"  _and Mya Stone and Lord Davos_  but Yaya did not add that. 

"Yes, Ned Stark's bastard, they say is really his sister's son, Rhaegar's son," Jaime looked down at her. "You are too young to remember all that..." She tried to keep stride with his long legs. Hers were long too though not as long as Lord Lannister's

"My mother told me. I've heard the songs.."

"The songs are lies," Jaime said. "But that bastard being Lyanna's son, I believe that. I believe Ned Stark is fool enough to hide him for all those years."

"So if you had to choose...the dragon queen or the King in the North, who do you choose?" he asked her. Alayaya wondered if this was some trick. She thought back on Jaime Lannister's words to the Imp. He mentioned an oath. She thought of her friend Mya, of kind Lord Davos, she thought of the sullen King. She thought of dragons. She remembered the fire raining down from their mouths as they flew over the stormy sea. 

"I don't think the King in the North much cares for a throne," she said. 

"Smart man," he responded 

"He spoke of a Great War, the War for the Dawn. These Others come from far in the North. They say, the Northerners say none will survive if we don't fight it," she told Jaime Lannister. 

Stopping their walk he turned her so he could look her straight in the face. "God's I see it now." Alayaya did not understand his meaning. 

"Nevermind," he said. "Perhaps this great war will come, perhaps it will not. Whatever, they are paying you, the Starks, keep taking it." Her eyes grew wide wondering how he knew.

"Don't look shocked, my dear Lady Yaya," he said. "You're in this game, now." She pursed her lips neither confirming or denying his assumptions. She felt him place a bag of coins in her hand. "Go to them, tell them they may yet have the swords of Casterly Rock," he said. "I don't know how, Cersei will never stand for it. But when the dragons fight, the North will have the Rock."

He let go of her, Alayaya bowed, "Yes, my lord." 

"And Lady Yaya, if  you meet a tall blond Lady Knight, ugly woman truly, wish her well for me." He started to walk away before stopping and turning to add, "And tell her I may have to kill a few mad dragons. before I see her again." 

Alayaya stood in shock watching him and clutching the purse filled with coin. Once he was out of sight, she raced off to book her passage.  _Gulltown_ , she remembered. I will meet  Lord Davos and Mya Stone on their way back North. If she was lucky she could join them there for the journey to Winterfell. Her mother would not like this, she would not like this at all. 


	15. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The darkness had become familiar to her, she breathed it in and out. It changed over the course of hours. When the moon set, it was a matte black. Later, it would change to a deep dark steel, like Jon's eyes when he is angry. Then it would move to a dark indigo and the moon would rise again this time with a piece missing or a bit added depending on the turn." 
> 
> The darkness of the long night continues, word reaches Jon and Sansa bringing even darker tidings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a longer chapter than usual. Hopefully, I'll get at least one more chapter out before the premier Sunday!!!

**Sansa**

Sansa woke,  _how many hours she been asleep_? The space next to her on the bed was empty with Ghost at the foot, a lazy heap on the floor. Climbing out from underneath the furs she rubbed her eyes, her gown was strewn over a chair. Her body ached and she rubbed her belly before dressing in her simple wool gown. She had just finished it, made from cloth left in Eastwatch's stores. Her stomach was growing and the gown she had left Winterfell in was beginning to tear at the seams. The new one was black of course. She had even found gray and black thread to embroider wolves with large black wings running along the trim. Jon had told her she looked beautiful, Sansa told him she looked fat. He laughed more than necessary at that jape, Sansa thought. 

Sansa brushed her long full hair out in the dirty mirror. As she ran the comb through the auburn waves she thought on the events of the previous night.  Finishing with her hair and fixing it into a long braid, Sansa put on a black cloak with gray fur trim that she had also made. Ghost barely raised his head to watch her go in search of her King.  _Lazy beast,_ she giggled to herself rubbing his ears before she left.  

Jon had been tender with her before she fell asleep. His anger with her seemed to subside the longer they stayed at Eastwatch. _He was angry about other things now._ The moon had risen and fallen 5 times, since Jon's arrival. She was glad to be with him even though, it would not be for long. They had bigger worries, more important battles to fight than the one between themselves.  _We can't fight a war amongst ourselves,_  she could hear him saying. 

A raven had come from Gulltown with the newest threat. Lord Davos and Mya Stone had reached the port safely and been joined by the one they called Lady Yaya. A whore they had employed for information and the information she brought was unsettling. Davos made as full a report as he dared via raven. Tyrion Lannister had, in fact, decided he wanted Sansa Stark back for all he had claimed to contrary when speaking with Jon at Dragonstone.  

"I thought when I let you kill Lord Baelish that would be the end of this. This sort of thing," Jon raged and growled. "There's no end to their greed. They come and they come for you," he shouted.

"I did nothing," Sansa said.

"I know you did nothing."

"They see my claim," she said. Jon hung his head in his hands.

"Ramsey, Lord Baelish, now this, Tyrion Lannister," he said. "How many more of your suitors will we have to kill."

"Well Joffery's already dead..." she reminded him. Jon's anger broke, pulling her close to him, he told her if he had to kill suitors for her until he died again, he would. She gently reminded him that she had killed most of her suitors. He had laughed at that too while he kissed her. Sansa put her hand to her mouth remembering the kisses just a few hours before. 

Already they were making plans for her to travel back to Winterfell. For him, to go beyond the Wall to try to cut off the head of the Other's army. Sansa misliked both plans and voiced her concerns. She knew Jon would overrule her. Still, she prayed he would not go beyond the Wall. 

Walking along the fortress's raised walkways and battlements, Sansa saw the new fallen snow that had come while she slept. A glittering whiteness against the abyss made the darkness shine. The moon had set,  _If this was not the Long Night, this would be day,_ she thought to herself. The bonfires had been lit in the yard, Sansa stayed far from them looking up towards the Wall or south.

The darkness had become familiar to her, she breathed it in and out. It changed over the course of hours. When the moon set, it was a matte black. Later, it would change to a deep dark steel,  _like Jon's eyes when he is angry._ Then it would move to a dark indigo and the moon would rise again this time with a piece missing or a bit added depending on the turn.  

And when the moon came no matter the turn, there would be a duskiness to the night. There would always be a night when the moon did not come. The marking of a new month. It had been 5 since she had realized she was with child which meant she had carried for 6 or 7 turns. Even Sansa had to admit, she must return to Winterfell to birth her child. Though, Jon had suggested her taking a ship to White Harbor or Gulltown both places he thought would be safer. If it weren't for the danger of the sea voyage, he might be correct she had told him. 

Sansa continued her walk, she had forgotten she was looking for Jon lost in the colors of the night. As she came upon the training yard, she could hear the clanking of steel. The men trained, even in the long night, Jon insisted. The Brotherhood was there, with the wildling fighters, men of the Night's Watch, Lord Reed, Jon's men. It was a crowded yard. She spotted Jon training with two swords in the center of it all. She saw the set of his shoulders,  _he wants to fight_. Sansa stopped to watch.

Jon called in frustration for man after man to fight him. None would risk hitting their king too hard. They all let him win making him even more frustrated. Jon wanted a fight, he wanted to hit something hard. The thought made a feeling rise in Sansa, a feeling she barely wanted to admit to herself. She watched him, his frustration, she wanted to pull him towards her to have him take her right there in the yard in the dirt and the snow. The unladylikeness of it shocked her. _We have done so many things that are not proper. Why would this shock her?_ Yet, it did. Sansa was the Lady of Winterfell before all else.

"Your grace, how'd ya like ya killers?" a deep voice growled breaking Sansa's fantasy into tiny pieces. She turned to see the Hound next to her. 

"Men do what they have to do," she said pausing a moment before adding. "As do I."

The Hound laughed at that, "Aye, the stories of the little dove have traveled."

"Have they?" she asked glancing up at the large man. His burnt face seemed a bit purple in the Northern cold. 

"Which weapon do you like poison or hounds?" he asked.

"Armies," she told him. Before the Hound could respond, Jon called out to Sandor Clegane with a pointed sword. 

"Come fight me Hound," he said. Sansa felt a smile rising despite the silliness of it. Men, even Jon, were predictable fools. The Hound was no rival for her affections or her claim. Yet, her king meant to prove himself in front of her. If he could only see her thoughts, Jon might not be so rash. 

The Hound put his helm back on to go meet Jon in the middle of the yard. The others stopped to watch. Cotter Pyke, the commander of Eastwatch, stood next to her. "They do have blunted blades, my lord,?" she asked him for reassurance. 

"Aye, your grace," he said. "No fear, the Hound won't hurt the King."

"It's not the Hound, I fear," she whispered. Cotter Pyke said no more as the clang of steel rang out. The Hound met the King in the North blow for blow. Jon moved quick and graceful just like a dancer. 

"Give me a real fight" Jon yelled to him. The Hound came at him faster and Jon hit back. They were evenly matched, Sansa thought Clegane would overpower Jon eventually by virtue of his size. Or perhaps, Clegane would succumb to exhaustion. In a quick, succession of blows, Jon had him backed against a wall, he was almost beat. Until the Hound gave one quick push, forcing Jon off of him with such force, he stumbled to the ground. Sansa gasped covering her mouth with her gloved hand. Jon continued to try to fight Clegane, the effort was futile. The bigger man towered over him. Jon yielded and the Hound threw his sword on the ground walking away.

Jon sat up resting his arms on his knees, with a laugh. "Now, that's a fight," he said pulling off his helm. Cotter Pyke shook his head. Sansa saw Lord Reed share a look with Jon from across the yard. Jon's squire, a Night's Watch youth named Satin came running. She remembered him from Castle Black, he had stayed behind when they marched to Winterfell. Jon had requested that he come to Eastwatch to squire for him, again. Jon waved the boy off getting up by himself.

He walked toward Sansa. "Ya've woken," he said. She narrowed her eyes, "Please don't let the Hound kill you. The Others will be so disappointed if they miss their chance."

"Ha," he said. 

"I believe they are serving...is it breakfast or dinner in the dining hall?" she asked looking to the sky. "Shall you escort me, your grace."

"The midday meal," he said noting the color of the night and taking her arm. He disliked when she called 'his grace.' In front of their men, she always remembered her courtesies no matter what Jon wanted. 

They ate in the dining hall at Eastwatch, a hall that one time held hundreds of men. Now, the fortress contained barely 200 even with the extra men the hall felt half full. Jon and Sansa sat at the high table with Lord Reed, Lord Beric, Cotter Pyke, the wildling leader at Eastwatch, normally a man of the Watch or a Wildling would sit with them as well, but at this meal they would talk of serious matters. Sansa had asked a spear wife named Kaya, leader at Hardhomme to join them. Her advice would be valuable. 

Jon was practically silent through the meal. Grunting his answers when Cotter Pyke or Lord Reed asked about the plans to head north of the wall. Sansa did her best to add details to Jon's grunts. The men at Eastwatch were fearful and growing more so by the day.  Kaya, the spear wife asked which wildlings would go North of the Wall and which to Castle Black with the dragonglass. Jon hardly heard the question. 

Sansa did her best to guide the conversation, as she ate her simple stew.  _She had never wanted a lemon cake more in her life._  Shipments of food had arrived from Essos. The dragonglass had been unloaded that came with Jon. Everywhere they were making preparations to move supplies to the other castles along the Wall. Sansa was assured that all was moving forward. Men and spear wives would move with them.  

The meal ended, Sansa bid her leave, taking Jon with her. There was much they would need to discuss in private. The thought made her weary, she longed for an hour or so with her needles and Jon next to her pretending to carve at some wood while he listened to her hum. They walked across the yard from the dining room towards the tower that housed their chambers.

Stopping, "Take me up there," Sansa said looking up at the Wall. It was an inky black against the dark sky. 

"Sansa, it's...it's cold," he said.  _When had cold bothered her, she was a born of the North, born of Winter._  She did not respond to his question instead walking toward the winch. Jon shrugged and she heard his footsteps following her.

When they reached the winch she looked at him, "Is the cloak, I made you not warm enough, my love," she asked in her sweetest voice flashing her prettiest smile. "I added the hood to cover your ears. Should I add more fur to keep out the cold?"

Jon shook his head at her, "Fine," he said. "Ya could slip ya know." She looked at him again saying nothing more. They entered the winch that would take them to the top of the Wall. As the cabin creaked and swayed slowly moving up the wall, Sansa felt the coldness. Inhaling it into her lungs, strengthening her body. 

The last time she walked atop the Wall, she had barely just arrived at Castle Black, bruised and exhausted. On her fifth day there, as she regained some of her strength, Jon asked her if she wanted to see the top. Staring up at the hard glassy blue wall bigger than a castle of ice, she agreed to go with him. That time as they road in the winch, Jon rambled about how she would have to be careful not to slip, how father's ghost would murder him and make sure he stayed dead if she fell off the wall. Sansa remembered smiling when he said that. Was it the first time she smiled since running away from the Bolton's? Perhaps. That was so long ago.  _We were such children, then._  Though, not even two years had past. 

Still, the memory was fresh in her mind. That time, when they were at the top looking towards the south, at the lands of the North, the lands they would reclaim, Sansa walked close to the edge. She remembered thinking how magical it would feel to jump, to fly through the air. She wondered if it would hurt. The red of her hair mixed with the red of blood would stain the pure snow. It would be beautiful. She wondered if they would sing songs about her, the Lady who flew off the Wall.  _Maybe the other song was true and she would grow giant leathery wings to fly. That vision was even more beautiful than red hair and blood on snow._ She wondered if Jon would cry. She inched closer to the edge to take a better look and Jon grabbed her hand. "Careful," he told her then. Holding it he didn't let go. She thought mayhaps, he would cry if she were to jump.  _Oh, that was so many moons ago._

This time, she wanted to see their kingdom to the south. She wanted to gaze north upon the Haunted Forest. She wanted to look east at the rough sea. Mostly she thought he might remember when he took her up the first time. Jon had wanted to show her the world then, the world that had been his, the magic it had held. Back then, all she wanted was to throw herself from it. 

The winch reached the top, Jon helped her out. He pulled the hood of her cloak up around her face. "It's cold up here," he said again. She did the same for him. Touching his dark beard after, running her fingers along the roughness of his chin. They walked the Wall toward the end that reached the sea in a quiet togetherness.

"She wanted me," he said. Sansa turned. Jon described how the dragon queen had approached him. Sansa slowed her walk thinking to herself in icy silence. She was not surprised, Jon was handsome, he was King in the North, and he was married in front of a weir wood tree with naught but two witnesses to a woman many still considered his half-sister.  _Who will respect our marriage, let alone believe it?_ Her gaze straight ahead, her hands kneading underneath her cloak, she felt the babe stir in her belly. 

"And did you want her," Sansa asked in all seriousness.

"Sansa?" he said stopping as they reached the end of the wall. Standing near a lit fire and motioning for the two Night's Watch brothers tending it to leave them. Clive, she thought she remembered the brothers' names, Toady, the other was called for obvious reasons. Sansa smiled at both and asked if they were well. Giving only short answers, they bowed to both Jon and her. She thought just a little more deeply to her. 

"I do not want her," he said once the men were gone. Sansa looked away from the fire. She saw a white bird gliding through the sky toward them. Alysanne had returned from hunting. She had taken to finding dead washed up fish nearly frozen. Sansa was happy to see the bird healed, healthy, and able to find food. She blinked at Sansa from a perch atop a trebuchet. 

"But do we need her help?" Sansa asked. Jon pointed out she had sold them dragon glass.  _Sold,_  thought Sansa. _An easy sale for her. You don't need dragon glass to fight the Lannisters._  

'There is more," he said. Sansa inhaled deeply, kneading her hands. Jon explained to her what little he could of the night of the feast at Dragonstone. When he finished, Sansa felt a small part of her heart freeze. He claimed he did not know what happened. That he was almost sure Daenerys had been in his chambers. Beyond that, he did not know what might have transpired. Jon told her it was not until the dragon queen approached him two days later, the night before he left to return North that she suggested they had been together. He apologized for being in his cups. He begged Sansa forgiveness.    

Sansa told him there was nothing to forgive if he did not have his senses about him _. Would he lie to her? He was a man after all. They had been apart for months._ The part she did not understand was that he was not one to lose all sense when drunk. He did not look at her as they spoke of this. 

She asked him if he had been the wolf.  At first, Jon did not understand the question. Sansa reminded him of the time deep in the crypts in the wolf room with the underground hot bath. The time he was the wolf, the time he did not remember clawing at her body. 

Jon grabbed her hands, "Look at me," he begged her. "The wolf never came to me in the south, once I was too far from Ghost, from you." She nodded not meeting his eyes. Jon continued, "Whatever, happened in Dragonstone it was from the drink, much too much of it."

Jon drew her close, "You must believe me," he said. "I'll never dishonor you or our child."

"I believe you," she said.  _One day you may have to Jon Snow. You may have to dishonor me._  Jon pulled her close to him kissing her deeply. She held back for a few moments before kissing him back. Her hands moving underneath his cloak to wrap around his waist. Her belly made it hard to squeeze close to him. She turned to her side slightly so he could hold her. He whispered in her ear that they should go back down to their rooms. Sansas shook her head, no. 

"Take me here," she said as he kissed her neck. She could feel the hardness in his breeches. The night was calm, cold, but the fire was more than warm enough for Sansa.  

"In the open?" he asked stopping for a moment. "Sansa, I just said I would never dishonor you."

"Let them see," she said. "Let them see you are the King of Winter." 

They both sunk to the gravel ground on top of the Wall. He wrapped his cloak around both of them while they laid on their sides. Sansa moved her cloak so it was not in the way as he lifted her skirts. Her belly was beginning to make it impossible for him to take her while he was on top. This time he laid behind her. She could feel his strong gloved hand on her thighs. He found his way around her small clothes. Reaching her hands behind her to feel his thighs, she caught his cock. He guided it gently into her, moving against her body. She pulled his hand around front placing it on her bud. She moaned and he grunted, it seemed to last forever. The fire in her belly came and soon after so did her king's seed. They did not see the dragon soaring high above them. Circling as they made love on the Wall. 

Jon and Sansa lay there after finishing until Jon insisted they return to their chambers or freeze to death. As much as Sansa did not want to leave the cold, she agreed. Once in their rooms, they discarded their cloaks. Sansa thought they should discuss the War, the North, what to do about, Cersei, the dragon queen, all they had to discuss. Instead, they rested on the bed. Jon with his hand on her belly, his mood lightened.  _He is relieved._ It was too early for him to feel the baby, even though Sansa could feel it moving in her womb.

"I'm sorry there is no one here to help you with this."

"It's no mind," she reassured him. "I'll be back at Winterfell soon enough. Lady Dayne has been a comfort."

"Has she?"

"Yes," Sansa said. "And she's as big as a horse," Sansa said in a low giggle. " Lord Reed still looks at her like she's the most beautiful woman in the world"

"She's bewitched him," he laughed. 

"Shadowbinder," Sansa corrected him. "There is a difference."

"Is there?" he asked.

"I think," Sansa responded. 

"I don't care about witches or shadowbinders," he said pulling her closer. Fumbling at the fabric of her gown. "The only bewitching I want is from you. This is the only new dress you have?"

"Jon, how much time do you think I have to sew dresses," Sansa answered him not bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice. She tried to push him away, Jon only pulled her closer to him.

"So if I rip it you won't have another."

She laughed and they began kissing. "No, your grace. If you rip this dress. I'll have to wear the old Night's Watch breeches and tunics from the rag bins."

He laughed even more at that. "Sansa Stark dressed as a man of the Night's Watch. I'm sure there's a hell I'd go to for allowing that."

"Allowing?" she asked. "And what if I wanted, too?"

"You want, too?"

"No, don't be daft," she said pulling herself out of his embrace getting off the bed. "But if I did you couldn't say no," she added turning away from him to undo the stays of her gown. She muttered something about already using things from the Watch's cloth bin to make herself new clothes. Sansa could tell Jon wasn't listening. 

"I could never say no to you, my Queen," he said reaching for her. "And ya still look beautiful in some of the Watch's old rags." Sansa felt herself blushing even now after months together he could make her blush.   
"Maybe our babe will be as beautiful as you?" Jon said to her.

" Maybe," Sansa thought. "I dreamt of her." 

"Dreamt of who?"

"Our babe."

 He smiled, "Ya dreamt of her. Already."

"Yes," Sansa said. "Are you disappointed it's a her?"

"Why."

"They will say you need a son."  
"They don't know what we need," he told Sansa his hands firmly on her round waist. "They are not us. The bells at Winterfell rang when you were born. They will ring when our daughter is born." Jon said as he helped finish untying the stays. He wrapped his arms around her as the gown fell to the floor.

She turned to him in all seriousness, "Jon I must tell you. Lady Dayne says it will be all girls and Bran..." Sansa remembered sitting with Lady Dayne near the hearth after many hours of meetings and castle work. The Dornish woman told her she had seen her daughters all of them. Sansa wanted to hear more, yet she could not bring herself to ask. Ashara Dayne called them fierce little she-wolves and Sansa smiled to herself. Bran told her, they would right the wrongs of the past. She did not ask him what he meant. 

"And," he looked at her. "That is a problem because..."

"You know why," she said. Jon held her face in his hands.

"If the North has a Queen, the North has a Queen," he said pressing his face to hers. Sansa sighed, it sounds so simple when Jon says it. 

"They did not make me Queen, my love," she said. He dropped his hands from her face and turned away. They had discussed this a million times over. Sansa knew it burdened him, the weight of her stolen birthright, the weight of his crown. "We can change the law but can we change the hearts of men?"

"I refused Stannis when he offered to give me Winterfell," he said staring at the fire in the hearth. "The only reason I'm King is because you pushed." She reached for him pulling him toward the bed with her. 

"I pushed because I wanted to be safe with you," she smiled. "And I will not allow a man to take our daughter's birthright," Sansa added. They climbed under the furs and he held her. 

They lay on the bed watching the fire. Sansa propped up on pillows in her shift and Jon in his breeches his face near her belly. She closed her eyes, while he whispered to the babe.

There was a knock at the door, to which Jon promptly shouted for them to go away. The voice, Satain's, said there was a raven. It was urgent. Sansa smiled to herself when Jon cursed and went to the door. His squire handed him a message just arrived from Winterfell.  _Dark wings, dark words,_ Sansa thought again. 

She watched Jon read it cursing to himself. Looking at her he said, "The war is here."

Sansa grabbed the message, it was Bran. He had seen the Others lead by a Night's King descending upon Castle Black and the Nightfort. Tears welled in her eyes, she felt the babe kick  _Yes, my loves, the war is here._


	16. Howland Reed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa must return to Winterfell and Lord Reed is tasked as her escort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated even having this chapter. I could have skipped ahead and gone straight to having Sansa back at Winterfell. Though, I wanted to touch on the journey getting there. I also thought about having something traumatic happen. Except, something traumatic doesn't have to happen every time. Sometimes, you just take a road trip, in the middle of the Long Night and that's exciting enough.

**Howland Reed**

The pounding of the hooves was the only sound as the small group rode hard away from Last Hearth. The Lord of Greywater Watch held tightly to the girl, no woman, no Queen, sitting in front of him on his horse.  She played the part of Queen, in his mind she was Ned's girl. Ned's pretty girl, Lyanna's niece, and the King's consort was his responsibility until they reached Winterfell. 

Lord Reed pushed the party ahead through the narrow path that would join the King's Road. He insisted on taking as few men as the King thought safe. Ahead road two from the Brotherhood and to their back a young Vale knight, a Waynwood, and the Hound. As always the white direwolf ran along side. While a white owl followed them overhead. It was a small escort for the Queen consort. 

They had spent less than a sen week at The Last Hearth. Sansa insisted on leaving as soon as they were rested. She wanted her child birthed at Winterfell. The Last Hearth was filled with hardened women and young children. The young Ned Umber had been made Lord. Sansa worried the castle was vulnerable so far North with so few people. 

Sansa had insisted on writing to Jon, "This castle needs men if it is to survive. " Lord Reed watched her stand by a window winging her hands in the small solar she was using. She contemplated arranging another betrothal. Some Vale Lord's daughter could bring soldiers. She spoke with Ned Umber and his Maester the boy agreed that perhaps a match would be wise. Lord Reed wondered if a match with more soldiers would come before the army of the dead. Though, he kept those doubts to himself.  _The Queen shares the same ones._ He could see the worries and fears in her deep blue eyes. 

From Last Hearth, they had headed west to the King's Road. Even in winter, there was a haunted beauty to this part of the North. Pure snow drifts amongst ancient trees. The white reflected what little light shown from the stars on the moons. They had been fortunate that the weather had held. It was simply frigid and dark, always dark. The snow came now and then but most of the drifts were from past storms. New storms were brewing, Lord Reed thought as they rode. 

They camped near the shores of Long Lake. Lord Reed showed the men how to make holes in the ice to fish. They feasted by the fire that night. He watched the direwolf sit at the feet of the Queen. She fed it bites of fish and rubbed the beast behind the ears. 

She watched as the two men of the brotherhood worshiped their fire sitting at a distance. He went to join her on the log she was occupying. Pulling out a small knife and a piece of wood beginning to crave into the bark.  

"What do you know of this lord of light, they worship?" she said. "Jon...his grace..is not fond of that god." 

"Very little my queen. I worshiped the old gods all my life. As our King does." 

"My lady mother had no love for the old Gods. She prayed to the seven insisted that we did, too. All of us but Jon," Sansa spoke into the night. 

"Aye, that was her way,"

"You and Lady Dayne, you do not worship the same?"

Lord Reed nodded and smiled. His Lady love had trained with the most skilled Shadowbinders of Asshai. She peddled their magic but even he hardly knew what her heart prayed, too. 

"Lady Ashara keeps her prayers to herself," he said. 

"You have been with her for some 3-4 years, my lord."  
"Aye, and I've known her since we were younger than you." he smiled thinking of how carefree they were. Lord Eddard and Ashara "Her prayers are hers, as mine are mine."  
  


Sansa was quiet, continuing to watch the men around the fire even the Vale knight had started to join in, he observed. Only the Queen, himself, and the massive beast of a man who they called the Hound did not. He sat away from the rest sharpening the great sword, Dawn. The King had given him the sword to protect the Queen on the journey.  "Lady Dayne said the sword should be wield by our best fighter. And he is the best," the king told Lord Reed before they left Eastwatch.

"Tell me of the isle of faces," Sansa asked him rubbing her hands together.  
"It is sacred ground," he said. "Old ground, one day you may see."

"How do you..." she started to ask before stopping. "And in these green dreams, what else have you seen?"  
"My dreams are not my son's, your grace," he said. Thinking of the powers his son Jojen had. The powers that eventually led him to his death. There was a place in his heart that was still raw from the loss. The same place shared by Lyanna and Ned. 

"But you've seen," she said. 

 "Yes, my queen so many things, sad things, happiness, and terribleness."

"You said you saw wolf pups in the godswood?" she asked.   
"And little lizard lions,"  he chuckled to himself  
"No dragons?" she said. He turned slightly, at the question, the Queen continued to stare ahead. Her owl, the one she called Alysanne was perched in a tree nearby.   
"Ah the pups did have wings," he recalled.  
"You believe these dreams?" she asked.   
Howland Reed nodded, "My powers are middling. Certainly not your brother's. I lacked discipline. Untrained." Sansa went quiet for several moments. 

"You have it too," he told her

"What?" she said.   
"You have powers"

"No," she said shaking her head. 

"It's nothing to hide," he said to the Queen. 

"No, no...they are just...silly nightmares..." she said. 

"You've never seen with the Owls eyes? Never had the wolf dreams?" he asked.   
"My wolf died." she reminded him. "They killed her."  
"Did she?"

"I've dug up her rotting corpse and had it placed in the crypts, my lord," she said. "Lady is dead."

"Her body, yes," he told the Queen. "Many still call you the Lady of Winterfell." He thought he saw a faint smile appear on her lips.

"My lord, I must retire now," she rose and the great white direwolf rose with her following her into the small tent they had provided. In the tree nearby he saw the white snowy owl still perched, it's large eyes blinking at him. 

They had drawn for watches, Lord Reed drew the last. Deciding he should rest before he would wake again. He dreamt of Ashara the years had faded from her face. The night so long ago during the year of the false spring. They had both loved Ned, the images of that time faded, and she was there before him in the tent. Her belly large with child, her dark hair loose streaked with silver, her tawny skin clear and bright. She could not stand upright in the small space instead she was on her knees looking down at him.  Wearing nothing but a deep purple cotton shift that she slowly let fall to the floor, she crawled towards him. Climbing on top of him, they made love and he spilled his seed inside her before she faded into a star. When he woke he wondered if she had really been there. On the furs, he found a long silver hair and decided that she had. He spent his watch staring into the flames thinking about the old gods and the new. 

When the moon began to rise again the party set off south on the KingsRoad. The torchlight lit their way. Again the Lady of Winterfell shared Lord Reed's horse. Each day they had to move slower and stop more often for the Queen. This day was not unlike the others. She too was growing large with child. When they returned to Winterfell it would no longer be a secret that Sansa of House Stark would be birthing an heir to the North. 

In the distance, Lord Reed could see an outline of a sprawling low building. He told the men ahead to slow their gallop. It would be good for the Queen to have shelter for the night. There was a plume of smoke coming from the chimney. 

"Perhaps, your grace, you will be able to take a few hours to rest under a roof," he said to her. 

"We should not impose on our people, my Lord," she said. 

"It is winter, your grace," he said, "And a little warmth might be wise." Sansa nodded to him and they rode ahead of the others towards the large farmhouse. Descending from the horse, Lord Reed walked with his Queen to the door. The Hound close behind. 

Knocking no one answered. The pair looked at each other. It was easy enough to push the door open. They found themselves facing a boy of 10 with an old sword in his hand. Sansa let out a sigh. Lord Reed and the Hound took a quick scan of the room. It seemed that no one else was there aside from another even younger boy in the corner. 

"Please lower your weapons," Sansa said with a kind commanding voice. 

"Who are you?" asked the child fear in his voice.

Lord Reed stepped in, he was not one for announcing Queens, "This is Sansa of House Stark, your Queen, my child." The boy quickly dropped his sword and bowed low in fear.

"Forgive me, my lady, ahh your grace..." he said.

"It is forgiven. we are intruding on your home," she said. "Seeking shelter on our way back to Winterfell."

"Winterfell," the boy said his eyes widen. 

"My child, do you have a name," Sansa asked as she knelt down toward the boy. He hesitated in both awe and fear, Howland Reed thought. 

"Answer your queen," commanded the Hound.

"My lord, please," Sansa said turning her head towards him. The boy continued to stare at his feet. "You do not have to be scared of us. We mean no harm." The child took a deep breath, lifting his head to face the Queen.

"Aric," he said, "Aric Lake." Lord Reed thought the boy must be a distant poorer cousin of House Lake. 

The Queen smiled, "And your brother? He is your brother?"

"Yes, my lady," the boy called Eric said, he was well spoken for a farm boy. Standing even straighter pushing the small boy no more than 4 forward, "His name is Robb, named for the young wolf."

Sansa muffled her gasp, "What a fine name,"

"Our papa went with him south," the child looked down for a moment before looking back at the Queen, "He was at the Twins." Sansa nodded. 

"And your mother?" asked the Queen. 

"She fell ill," he said. "One morning she didn't wake up." 

"I see," said the Queen standing to take in the farmhouse. It had no doubt been thriving before the war, before the Boltons. Lord Reed could see tears glisten from Sansa's eyes. The young boy seemed to remember his manners and offered the Queen what little soup they had and a bed to rest. Lord Reed had to convince Sansa not to refuse the child. Most of the men would eat outside and stay in their tents. He reminded her they must honor the children's offer of hospitality despite how little they had. 

"Why are they here alone?" she asked into space. "If they are of House Lake, do they not have family to help care for them."

"Many have died in the battles, my lady." Lord Reed said.

"Hmm...more like they are waiting for the boys to die in the winter in order to claim this piece of land in the spring," she said. Lord Reed nodded in agreement, thinking she may just be correct. "These boys will not be dying if I have anything to do with it."

The Queen, Lord Reed, and the Waynwood slept in the farmhouse. The crannogman kept the first watch outside Sansa's door. The white direwolf stayed in the room with her just as he had shared her tent each time they stopped to rest.  It was not long before she cried out in her sleep. Not wanting to scare the children, Lord Reed was quick to open her door. The scene he saw The white wolf was there next to her on the bed with a gentle paw on her shoulder nudging her out of sleeping terror. 

Lord Reed was careful to shut the door not wanting to disturb the wolf. _I have seen something I should not have seen._  

Several hours later, they were mounting their horses with the young Aric and Robb Lake in tow. Sansa had convinced the boys that they should join them at Winterfell for winter. She would ensure that their lands remain safe. Lord Reed even thought he heard her say this might be a nice spot for a small keep. 

Torches could be seen in the distance, one of the brotherhood men rode ahead to the meet the party. "Winterfell," Sansa whispered.   _Yes, my Queen, we are almost home._ As the party came closer they could make out the white banners with a gray wolf alongside gray banners with a white wolf. He could see her Lady Knight, Brienne, leading the way. Relief washed over him, they were almost home. 


	17. Bran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran reflects on all that has happened upon Sansa's return to WInterfell to prepare for the War for the Dawn. 
> 
> "Prepare the armies to ride North. Move supplies to each castle. Ensure that all common folk not at Wintertown, were able to take refuge in a castle. Each a command, given while the Lords nodded in agreement. She decried that no one, absolutely no one was to be left outside a castle wall aside from the cities of White Harbour and Wintertown. When Lord Locke claimed he could not because his castle was too small, she threw him in one of Winterfell's cells for several hours. Lord Locke quickly acquiesced to her plan. Bran wondered how his sister could be both warm and ice cold. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing has been a bit slow recently. I've got another chapter hopefully coming soon. Normally, I give it a few days after I finish a chapter to check for typos and grammar. But I wanted to get this up. Apologies ahead of time for any of that stuff.

**Bran**

Opening his eyes, Bran saw that he was in the Godswood, under the heart tree with Meera Reed nearby sharpening an arrow made of weirwood. The fragments of his most recent vision were proving difficult to decipher floating through his mind each piece a part of the house broken.

Two young boys were running by them through the Godswood throwing snowballs and laughing. They wore fur lined woolen breeches, tunics, and short woolen cloaks with their House arms, seven green pommes on a brown field, embroidered on the back. Sansa had taken interest in the Lake boys, Aric and little Robb. Bran thought they reminded him of two other youngs boys he knew once a very long time ago. 

The distant cousins of a small noble house, Bran understood why Sansa brought them to Winterfell. Why she gave them extra attention. All the other orphans were placed with relatives or families in Wintertown.  _They are like the boys she used to know, too._ In the fragments of his mind, he saw that their father had fought with Robb. Later, as their mother laid dying, her older son next to her, relatives fought in the other room over the land. "She never let them cut the trees," "Do you know what Braavos is paying for timber?" and another saying "Why would you believe the Lord Protector, he is not off the North." They argued loudly over who had the best claim before the older boy came out of his mother's room screaming at them telling them to leave. 

For a moment, Bran wondered if he should tell Sansa this. Then he remembered the Lord Protector was dead and Sansa had written to the head of House Lake, Lord Joric stating that the lands belonging to the farmhouse were to remain unmolested. Since she was sure the family had not intended to abandon the young boys, she assumed they would cede a portion of their adjoining lands to the boys' current small holdings. Bran watched her read their response in dismay. The family was not happy about losing land. To which Sansa sent them a small thank you gift for their generosity and loyalty to House Stark, several hundred dragons along with the gift of keeping their remaining lands. Bran reflected that in this matter perhaps Sansa did not need his help. 

Aric the older of the two had become fast friends with Lady Lyanna Mormont. In the fog of his mind, he could almost make out the faces of the boys, they reminded Bran off. Aric trained in the yard with the other children and joined in with the maester's lessons. He had some letters but was behind the likes of Lady Mormont. The one called Robb was little more than a babe. Sansa found a nurse for him. Though, she took it upon herself to put him to bed, reading stories. 

Bran thought if he was not the three-eyed raven, he would still have lessons. He might even still listen to Sansa's stories. When he first returned to Winterfell, Sansa had started to suggest lessons. She quickly realized that no maester's lessons could surmount everything Bran had learned in the cave north of the Wall. He still tried to listen to her songs and stories, sitting in the corner of the room while she read to the Lake boys. The stories of Naerys and Aemon or Queen Nymeria would fade into visions. He would see Naerys silently weeping as Aemon left her bed to ride off to war. Or Nymeria's boats burning on the Dornish coast, while the warrior Queen wondered if the price of a crown was worth her fleet. 

Bran spent his days at Winterfell in the Godswood, or attempting to ride a horse with his special saddle, or when Sansa had requested by her side. While she had been gone, he took her place as best he could. Though, everyone knew it was Lady Dayne who advised him. Brienne acted as a Captain of the guards giving military advice while Arya scowled in the corner watching everything. Every day, she told him she was going to go kill the Queen. Every meal in the Great Hall, Arya was still there.  

When word officially reached Winterfell that Sansa had been found and would return to them, the Northern Lords and Ladies remaining at the castle along with the Vale knights were relieved. News had come that Cersei's forces had been defeated in the Reach.  The Lords and Ladies worried that the Dragon Queen would soon turn her eyes to the North. They whispered in the halls of fighting a war to the North and the South.  _They need their Queen. They want their Queen._ Bran had wanted to forget these responsibilities. _Sansa was much better at it all._

Sansa returned to Winterfell with great fanfare accompanied by the guard Bran had sent to meet her led by Brienne. The castle could breathe again. Within hours of her appearance, Sansa sat in the Great Hall presiding over a small banquet with the iron tiara on her head. Her growing belly visible to all. She gave a soft smile to each Lord and Lady that greeted her and prayed for the health of her child. And yet, she commanded them to do her bidding. The war was here, there was no time to waste, she told them. 

Prepare the armies to ride North. Move supplies to each castle. Ensure that all common folk not at Wintertown, were able to take refuge in a castle _._  Each a command, given while the Lords nodded in agreement. She decried that no one, absolutely no one was to be left outside a castle wall aside from the cities of White Harbour and Wintertown. When Lord Locke claimed he could not because his castle was too small, she threw him in one of Winterfell's cells for several hours. Lord Locke quickly acquiesced to her plan. Bran wondered how his sister could be both warm and ice cold. 

At that banquet, Bran recalled the moment that Samwell Tarly knelt before her. He had arrived at Winterfell perhaps a sen week before the Queen's return. Even Bran could not be sure a week had passed. The moon rising and falling was the only sign that time passed during the long night. The round man stepped forward to introduce himself to the Queen. 

Sansa's face lit up when his name was announced. Bran watched her walk around the table to take his hand. 

"You are a great friend to our King," she said. "We are happy to have you." 

A few rising and falling of the moons, later Sam joined Bran, Arya, and Sansa in the room Jon had used as his solar. They were surrounded by scrolls, maps, and messages that Sansa wanted to use to plan for the defense of the castle.  Hiding her fear, she smiled when Sam walked through the door. He admitted to them both that he had not fully finished his maester training. Sansa assured him that they would assist him in anything he needed to continue his studies at Winterfell. They spoke at length of the evidence Sam had found in the Citadel pertaining to Jon's birth. He had also found documents claiming that Rhaegar had married Lyanna.

"mmmph..two wives..thought he was the next Aegon the conqueror," she mumbled. 

"Well, technically Jon is the next Aegon," Sam stated.

"What, that's ridicules," Arya said. "Rhaegar already had a son named, Aegon."

He heard Sansa mumble under her breath, "Targaryens..two wives, two Aegons..."

"No, that Aegon was already dead," said Bran to Arya. "And Lyanna knew that. She named him not Rhaegar."

"You saw this in a vision?" Sansa asked narrowing her eyes. "The name on the headstone in the crypt said, Jon."

"He was Jon to Father, to us," Bran said. "Always Jon." Sansa grew quiet kneading her hands in her lap. Bran and Sam talked a bit longer near the warmth of the fire. Though, Sam in his weariness soon decided to retire leaving the brother and sisters alone. 

"I'm going," Arya said leaving the room with out waiting for Bran or Sansa to say anything. Bran watched Sansa start to open her mouth to say something then close it. Still kneading her hands on top of her round belly. 

"Sansa," Bran said. "Jon will return."

"You loved him all along," he added. "I saw it in a vision." 

"What do you mean?"

"You loved him at Castle Black,"

"Of course," she replied. "I thought, he was all the family I had left." Bran gave her a sad look. Those visions had become clearer and clearer. He saw Jon waiting sentinel outside her door as she slept the first nights at Castle Black. He saw them huddled in the tent underneath furs as they traveled the North seeking out the Lords support. He saw things he wished he had never seen. 

"Even as children, you loved each other," Bran said.

"Don't be silly, I loved all of you," Sansa said. 

"That's why you stayed away from him. It's why he stayed away from you," Bran said. 

"Well, you must know everything," Sansa said with ice in her voice. 

"You know what you must do," he said to her. "He'll always be yours."

"What?" Sansa asked. "What do I know?"

"About the dragon queen," he said. "I'm sorry it has to happen." 

"She wants the North to bend in return for her assistance," Sansa said. "Rhaegal follows Jon. Except Jon can not control it. We need her help."

"And she wants more than Jon to bend," 

Sansa was silent. A voice called out to them, "Lady Sansa," Sam said returning to the solar. "Come quickly, it is Lady Ashara. The babe is coming."

Sansa turned back to Bran, "It won't come to that." was all she said before hurrying off slowed only by her own large belly. 

In the hours that followed, Lady Ashara's low moans could be heard in the hallway outside her chambers. Bran could not recall if he was in the room or merely watching the room.  _Perhaps it was both_. Meera was there with her father. Bran had never heard of a man being in the birthing room before. He supposed the crannog men did things differently. 

The midwife, a woman who would be his mother's age, had his mother still been living. He noticed her kind pretty face and heard Sansa call her, Goodwife Bethy. Samwell Tarly was there, speaking with the midwife explaining that he was new to the maester trade and had not been to so many births. Bethy assured him that all would be well. Lady Ashara groaned only a little louder when she heard this. 

"My, you are the most ladylike birthing woman I've ever heard," the midwife chuckled to Lady Dayne. Sansa entered the room followed by a servant carrying more warm towels. Shooing the servant girl away, Sansa remained.

"Your grace," Lord Reed greeted her. Sansa seemed surprised at first by his presence. 

"My Lord," 

"All goes well," he said. 

"Oh aye, all goes very well," the midwife said. "Babe will be here soon enough,"

Bran's mind went hazy during the long hours of Ashara Dayne's labor, he saw another room and another birth. A voice calling to him, "Help her, Bran. Help her." He tried to say he couldn't before he realized the voice was not speaking to him, not really him. The voice was speaking to a Bran sat in the chair in the corner. There was a sword in the corner, he saw the red-auburn hair damp on the bed. 

Two people were arguing while the woman in the bed groaned in pain. A shadow of a figure walked to the sword picking it up to stand over the body. Bran tried to form the words "No, stop, wait." Only the last came out and he saw the face of his sister Arya turn toward him. At that moment the door burst open, "Touch her and I'll kill you."

The room began to fade leaving Bran awake and alone in the cold hallway outside of Lady Dayne's door. He no longer knew the difference between the visions and dreams. 

Sansa peered out from around the door, "Bran," she said smiling. "The babe is here. A little girl."

"Yes," he said. "A little girl."

"Lady Dayne wants you to come and see," Sansa told him as she walked toward his chair in order to push him into the room. They entered the dimly lit room with a blazing fire. Lady Dayne was sitting up in the bed. Her face tired, her black hair with silver streaks damp with sweat. Over her white shift, she wore a deep purple robe lined with black sable that made her eyes shine despite her exhaustion. Lord Reed sat next to her admiring the small baby in her arms. Meera looking over his shoulder with a sad smile. 

The midwife and Sam picking up the dirty sheets and pans. "We'll leave you for a few moments," Sam said. "The babe is healthy as a horse. Small...that is too be expected with two....ahh..small..parents." Lady Dayne narrowed her eyes at Sam then quickly turned her frown to a kind smile. 

"Please, Maester Tarly," she said in a tired voice. "Leave the afterbirth." Sam looked confused along with everyone else in the room.

"My lady..ahh..we..must." he started to say.

"Yes..you must clean..." she said. "Please take the other things first. You can take the afterbirth pan when you return. You'll be returning, of course?"

"Ahh yes..I'll...ahh... have..ahh.. to come back to add the name to the record of the birth," he added. Lord Reed waved him away. Sam hurried out of the room mumbling something about the health of allowing the family time with a new babe. The midwife following behind him.

Lady Dayne leaned her head back onto the pillow. "I thought they would never leave," she said. "My love, here hold our daughter." She handed the small bundle to the child's father. Turning to Sansa she asked for her to hand her the pan with the afterbirth. Lady Dayne took the pan trying to stand with it, instead, she almost toppled over. Sansa had to support her. No easy task for his sister who was at least 7 moons pregnant herself. Lord Reed quickly handed the babe to Meera and went to help Ashara. With Sansa and Lord Reed on either side of her, Ashara walked toward the hearth.

Lady Dayne's hand shaking so much as she tried to carry the pan with the afterbirth that Sansa had to help steady it. Staring into the hearth, she brought a handful of the afterbirth to her mouth. Bran's eyes went wide as ate it blood dripping down her chin. Sansa looked on a cool curiosity on her face. 

The half of the afterbirth she had not eaten, Lady Dayne picked it up. Holding the bloody mess out towards the fire in the hearth, she spoke in a low voice words Bran did not know. Valyrian perhaps. A prayer, or a curse. 

"Death for life, blood for blood," she said in the common tongue before dropping the afterbirth into the flames. There were a loud hissing and crackling sound from the flames. The lady never took her eyes from the fire as the final words, "A queen for a queen," passed through her lips. In the flickering light, the purple eyes turned the color a deep red blood. 

No one had noticed that Samwell Tarly had re-entered the room. Shock flooded his face as he stared at Ashara Dayne's bloody mouth.

"My..my..my lady...what will you name...the babe?" he asked avoiding her face. 

She stared at him for a moment not hearing the question, "Oh yes of course," she said. "Her name is Ahwrenne, 

"A name from the age of heroes," Lord Reed added. 

"Ahwrenne Snow, then," Sam stated picking up the quill on the table in the corner of the room. 

"No," said Sansa. "Her name is Ahwrenne of Houses Dayne and Reed."

"But...your grace...the babe is..ahh.."

"She is healthy and strong and born of two great old houses. Two houses that have been great old friends to House Stark," Sansa said. "Her name is Ahwrenne Dayne-Reed." Turning on her heels the Queen in the North walked out of the room. 

Bran opened his eyes and found himself in the Godswood under the heart tree with Meera nearby. 

 

 


	18. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon journies first to Castle Black and then to the Nightfort to prepare for the defense of the North. He soon finds himself with an unexpected ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter happens pretty much at the same time as the last Sansa chapter and beginning of the Bran chapter. Generally, I try to keep the timeline in order. Though, I liked having the Bran chapter right after Sansa. Perhaps later I will switch these Jon and Bran chapters.

**Jon**

Jon moved about the chambers putting the last remnants of his things into leather bags. His squire, Satin, had packed most of his sparse belongings. All that was left were his most private documents, messages, and Longclaw. He was happy to be leaving Eastwatch, the void in his chamber was apparent. Sansa had left Eastwatch a few days before. Her absence hung over the castle. 

She did not want to leave without him. Jon insisted that he must fight with his men. He cringed remembering the argument that had been followed by her icy silence. Alysanne had even stayed behind longer soaring above him in the dark sky, perching on ledges near him or outside the window while he planned with his men and Cotter Pyke. He wondered if she waiting for the chance to scratch out the eyes of their enemies or his own.  _Blindness would prevent me from fightin_ g. He was sure his Queen had the same thought. Eventually, the bird left to catch up with the Queen in the North. Letting him keep his eyesight for a while longer.

Scanning the room one last time to make sure nothing was forgotten, Jon kicked a small leather-bound book sticking out from under the bed. It was the side Sansa had been sleeping on. She must have left it on the floor one night.  Picking it up, Jon turned the notebook in his hand. Shaking his head he thought  _Sansa would forget her head if it wasn't attached sometimes_. Satin opened the door, "My lord," he said. "The horses and men are ready." Jon tucked the book into his leather side bag and nodded. 

They would travel along the north side of the Wall towards Castle Black. Bran's message from Winterfell suggested that the Others were moving from Hardhome not directly south but moving west first, towards Castle Black and the Nightfort. 

Sansa had begged him to move with the forces along the top of the Wall, while the main strength moved along the ground. He thought first to refuse her, then he thought again and lied. Promising her, he would be as safe as he could. Now, as the cold and moonless night surrounded them, he thought mayhaps he should have listened to his Queen.  _What good am I to my people dead? The only good I can bring is defeating the others. I must stay alive long enough to save them._

Jon had stopped praying for himself a long time ago. He had already died once and come back.  _Mayhaps I am still dead. In that case, it won't matter at all whether I pray or not, or whether I ride atop the Wall or beneath it._  Now he prayed that Sansa would make it safely back to Winterfell.  _And once she is there keep her safe, and our babe, and Bran, and Arya and all our people._

They rested only when necessary. The first time they stopped making a cook fire, Jon sat close by watching the flames. He remembered Sansa's notebook. Finding it deep in his side bag, he began flipping through pages of her pretty writing and a few short songs. Other pages had simple drawings. One page even had a detailed image of Alysanne, with large eyes and a pointed beak that made him smile. At the very back, he came upon a list of names, all girl names. They had not talked about names. In truth, they had hardly talked of the babe. These were times of trouble, speaking of the babe too often could only bring sorrow. 

Lady Dayne had told her they would only have daughters, Jon remembered. He thought of a little girl running through Winterfell. He saw the faces of a young Sansa or little Arya. On the page, she had written  _Arya, Lyarra, Minisa, Melantha, Branna, Margaery_. He frowned when he saw she had crossed out Catelyn but left Lyanna and Robba. Jon thought he must find a quill and some ink. Rummaging further in his bag he found what he sought. Heating the frozen ink, he quickly scratched out the name Robba.  _That's an awful one, Sansa._ He added Catelyn back to the list. Though, he hoped she would not want to use either of their mothers' name. 

Jon tried to remember the Stark family tree. Arya had been named for Ned's grandmother, Arya Flint, by all accounts a fierce woman. Sansa had been named for another Sansa Stark many generations ago. She had a sister he remembered learning. They had both been Ladies of Winterfell for a time, being forced into marriage in order to keep their claims. Arya words  _'A woman is important, too'_ came to his mind, a smile forming on his mouth. Trying to remember the name, something with an S.  _Serena, yes that is it. Serena's a pretty name for a Lady of Winterfell. My daughter will be a Lady in her own right._   He wrote the name at the bottom of the list. Closing the book, Jon hoped he would return to Winterfell before the child was born, at the very least to ensure she was not named Robba or Ricka or some other nonsense.

They continued to move west as fast as their horses would take them. Jon sent scouts out ahead. The moon began to rise and fall again. At moments he would look up and see the silhouette of a dragon soar across the silver disc. Rhaegal continued to follow him. Jon continued to wonder what the dragon wanted. If he knew how to control the beast it might prove useful. 

A sen week in and only one scout returned to the main group, horror on his face. A white walker was moving with a group of wights barely 30 leagues to the north of them. They had killed the other scouts, the wildling scout named Hore told them. If they wanted to stay safe they would have to reach Castle Black fast. 

Jon pushed the group harder than he had ever pushed before. Barely stopping to sleep or eat. The soldiers and wildlings traveling together spoke little as they rode. When the gate at Castle Black was in sight, Jon felt the relief wash over him. Edd Tollett and the Wall were still standing for now.

Immediately upon reaching the fortress, Jon had his people get to work handing out the dragonglass weapons. Plans for defense against the wights and White Walkers were put in place. 

Without sleep, Jon found himself in his former solar, writing scrolls to Winterfell. Responding to messages that had arrived in anticipation of the King in the North's presence at Castle Black. He anxiously sought word of Sansa's travels. Her party had yet to arrive at Winterfell. He tried not to fear for her safety. Later perhaps he would dream he was Ghost and lay next to her in her tent. Writing back to Bran, he commanded him to send Brienne and a group of soldiers as soon as she was with a days ride of home to escort her. The door opened to the solar, Edd Tollett let himself into the room. 

"Aye, I see you want your old solar back," he said. 

"humph" was all Jon said in response. 

"They're close," 

"I know," Jon said not looking up from his letter to Bran. "I'll go to the Nightfort tomorrow with half the forces I brought. We'll travel along..." There was a loud screech coming from the courtyard.

"What the seven hells!" Edd exclaimed rushing towards the door followed by Jon. Once on the walkway to the training yard, another loud screech rang out. Night's Watch men, soldiers, and wildlings alike were cowering in the corners ears covered. Circling just above the yard and the castle walls was Drogon with the silver-haired Queen riding him.  

"Seven hells," Jon muttered to himself. 

"A friend of yours," Edd yelled to him. Jon shook his head and walked to the middle of the yard. Even from that distance, he could tell Daenerys Targaryen was glaring at him. After circling one more time, realizing the yard was not large enough for Drogon too land, she had him lower himself outside the gates. Jon motioned to Edd to have them open the gates. 

"Are you out of your mind?" Edd asked. 

"Just open them," Jon snapped the impatience in his voice. "I'll tell her to keep the dragon out there."

As the gates opened, Daenerys stood in the center in a black sable fur coat lined with red-dyed fur on the edges. Drogon flew up towards the top of the Wall when his mother entered the courtyard. 

Before Jon could even greet the dragon queen, she screamed, "Where is my dragon?"

Jon set his jaw debating how to respond.

"You stole him," she accused the King in the North walking towards Jon.

"Your grace," he said. "Welcome to the Wall." She took a look around rage pouring out of her violet eyes. Jon glanced up now there were three dragons circling the top of the Wall. 

"Perhaps, we should go inside to discuss this," he suggested trying to hide his anger. Daenerys saw that Rhaegal had joined Drogon and Viserion who had come with her to the Wall. She gave him the slightest nod, she followed Jon and Edd up the stairs to the walkway and into the solar. 

Neither men were prepared for the dragon queen's anger. She continued to insist Jon stole Rhaegal just like he wanted to steal her throne. 

"I don't want your throne," Jon growled back. "And I didn't want a dragon. It followed me here."

"Why would it do that?" she demanded.

"Perhaps, it cares about the threat we all face," he said, adding "unlike it's mother."

"How dare you!" Daenerys said. "If you haven't noticed, I've been fighting a war against Cersei Lannister. Against the family that destroyed yours. Perhaps, it's you who does not care."

"Fighting and burning crops you'll need for winter from what I hear," he said back. Finally, Edd stepped in. 

"Aye, mayhaps we should stop bitchin amongst ourselves," he begged. "Your graces, the Walkers are very close. They'll be here any moment now."

Daenerys turned away, "I know," she said. 

"You know!" Jon spit out. 

"I saw them when I was flying with Drogon. Yesterday, late I headed slightly North of the Wall and we saw the army of the dead, as you call it," she told them.

Jon shook his head and she comes here to scream about her dragons he thought, "There is no time for arguing, as you can see."

"No, I suppose not," she said looking out the small window. Jon wondered if she wished she hadn't come looking for her lost dragon.  _Now, that she has seen the army of the dead from the safety of her beast perhaps she will be more helpful._

"Edd, shall we have some food?" Jon asked. "We have a long night of battle planning ahead of us."

"Aye, your grace," Edd said. 

"Did I say I was helping you?" she stated still facing the window. 

"Do you have a choice, now?" Jon asked. 

Daenerys turned to Jon, "It's always night in the North?"

"Aye, the Long Night has been upon us for many moons,"

"When does it end?" she asked.   
"When the dead are defeated," he said. She only nodded. Jon thought he saw worry on her face for the very first time. Her hands folded in front of her, she paced the length of the room while they waited for a meal to come. 

They spent many hours planning the defenses with Edd and two of the top wildling commanders. Jon found himself wishing Sansa was with them. She never said much during battle discussions, though when she did, he found her thoughts and questions refreshing.  _I need her. Sansa would understand why Daenerys is agreeing to help now._

When he looked at Daenerys across the table staring at a map or sipping ale there was a twisting in his stomach. Fragments of the night of the feast at Dragonstone came into his mind when he did not wish them too.  _Why had Daenerys come to his chambers? It was two moons since that night. Why could he not remember the details? Worst of all did Sansa truly forgive him?_  She claimed she did. 

There was no time for such thoughts. The dead were coming. By the end of their talks, Daenerys had agreed to bring a portion of her troops North to fight.  _It's the dragons I want,_  Jon thought. Tyrion and her other advisors would be summoned to Winterfell.

They broke the meeting to rest a few hours before Jon would go with half his force to the Nightfort. Daenerys would join them with her dragons in order to use the bigger fortress as a base. This time they would travel along the top of the Wall and on the southside. Jon wanted to take no chances, he had already given enough of his scouts to the army of the dead. 

The journey to the Nightfort took half the time it took to reach Castle Black. Jon traveled with the group on the top of the Wall. Rarely, taking his eyes off the wide expanse of white that had become North of the Wall. Even the trees of the haunted forest were topped in white with heavy icicles hanging from them. The trees will conceal the army of the dead. Jon had Daenerys' dragons burn the trees closet to the Wall. He meant to see the dead when they came. 

The wildling army was already encamped at the half-ruined castle, continuing renovations that Jon had started when he was Lord Commander. That seemed ages ago,  _another lifetime_. In truth barely 2 years had passed since his re-birth. The castle was more habitable than it had been before the work. Still, it had no luxuries. They weren't there for niceties, they were there to protect the realm, to fight the dead. 

Tormund had taken charge and Jon was glad of it. The wildling was fierce and his army would be fiercer. Tormund assured them the Wall would hold against the dead. They were well prepared with defenses and supplies. Again, Jon met and planned with the commanders and spearwives just as he did at Eastwatch and Castle Black. 

And they waited. Jon refused to send more men to die while scouting the army of the dead. It would only add to their numbers. Daenerys seemed anxious and irritable, wondering why they were wasting time. She had two wars to fight, she liked to remind him. He didn't tell her there was only one war that mattered, The War for the Dawn.  _Only one war that matters for you, dragon queen._

On the second night that the moon rose over the Nightfort, Jon received word from Winterfell. Sansa had arrived back at the castle.He wished he could go give thanks at a heart tree for her safety. Sansa wrote of two boys she had decided to foster at Winterfell. There would be many children at the castle if his Queen had anything say in the matter. Jon smiled at the thought thinking back to his own childhood spent running through the Godswood or training with Robb, even lessons with Maester Luwin were fond memories now. He returned to the message he was writing with greater urgency.  _I must keep them all safe._

Jon found himself walking the Wall at regular intervals to survey the defenses. Daenerys and Tormund joined him the night a silver sliver of a crescent moon hung in the dark sky. There were no clouds. The snow had turned hard on the ground. Soon the sky will be moonless. 

Tormund fell behind to talk with wildling spearwives on patrol keeping watch over that section of the Wall. 

"Why have you decided to join this fight?" he asked the dragon queen as they walked. 

"Because I am the princess that was promised. The people must see that I will save them."

Jon grunted, she wanted glory, she wanted to be their hero.

"Then perhaps they will make Targaryen banners for me," she said with a determined smile. "And there is the added benefit that you may die."

This almost made Jon laugh, "I fall in battle, and save you the trouble."  

"And keep the Northerners from hating me," there was a glint in her violet eyes when she said this. Jon thought  _but it will not save you from my Queen or her sister for that matter._

The three dragons circled overhead. Jon turned to watch them. Rhaegal's green scales looked black in the darkness of night. The bronze of it's eyes shined reflecting what little light there was from the large bonfires on the Wall and the moon. For a moment, their attention seemed to be taken by something on the ground. All three dipped lower before flying back up. 

Jon was distracted by a commotion from further down the Wall where they had left Tormund. He could see the wildling running toward them. Next, he heard the screech of a dragon. Before the words could fall from Tormund's mouth, Jon knew.  _The dead were upon them._  

 


	19. Mya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If it weren't for the rising and fall of the winter moon time would be lost."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am enjoying writing for Mya and Alayaya. I've had to sacrifice writing for others like Brienne and Davos. Brienne will coming back in the next part, hopefully. Writing about Jon and Sansa and the situation in the North from these two's perspective is really fun. They are really starting to become their own characters outside of the canon story....
> 
> See more notes at the end!

**Mya**

Mya turned her head when Alayaya whispered in her ear pointing out a young lordling across the Great Hall of Lord Manderly's New Castle.  _Which one was he?_  Mya scanned the row of men sat just below the dais. "A Flint of Widow's Watch, the dark-haired one, and next to him a Locke, Rogan, is his name," she reported.

'The Flint is Rogan?" Mya asked.

"No, pay attention," Alayaya answered. "Rogan is a Locke. The Flint is the one with dark-hair"

"He doesn't have a name?" she asked.

"Fred...no Edd" her friend replied.

"Seven bloody hells," Mya said. "How many Edds are there up here." Alayaya laughed a laugh that ended in a sigh.  She certainly had her eyes on the dark-haired Edd. The great hall at White Harbor was filled with people. The town itself was teeming with life despite the frigid cold. Mya thought every vassal house, petty lord, and landed knight in the Manderly's lands were in the hall for this feast. She wondered how the enormous fat lord could host such a feast with the Long Night upon them. _If it weren't for the rising and fall of the winter moon time would be lost._ Mya thought if the world did end, the people of White Harbor would die at a feast. 

Alayaya talked on about the lordlings and knights in the Hall when she wasn't commenting on the murals of mermaids and merman that adorned the room. Flickering in the candlelight as if they really were beneath the sea.  It was hard to tell which impressed Yaya more. Mya thought mayhaps the murals.  _Wait until Yaya sees the Eyrie._  She tried not to pull at her own hair while she pretended to listen to her friend. It was growing longer in the months since she had left the Vale almost grazing her shoulders. Mya had begged her dear friend to cut it while they were on the ship from Gulltown.  Alayaya refused, offering to help her style it, instead. 

For the feast, they had found an iron that could be heated and used to curl the hair. Mya now had a mass of black curls underneath the jeweled hairnet Lord Davos' wife had given her. Mya thought she would hate having her hair fussed over.  _No one has ever fussed over my hair._ She caught her reflection in a silver platter that had been emptied of its salted fish. She did look comely.  _Maybe being a lady isn't so bad._ She was given a high place on the dais as Lady Arryn. Lord Davos, as hand of the King in the North, sat next to her. Alayaya was to sit much lower down. Somehow Davos had convinced Lord Manderly that her friend was of some noble birth in Essos calling her Lady Yaya and insisting that she be seated next to Lady Arryn. Yaya's newly acquired dresses and two armed guards helped the claim that she was the daughter of someone important. 

Once they had had a few cups of wine, Mya and Yaya could barely stifle their laughter over being the smuggler, the bastard, and the whore sat at the high table. Davos coughed looking at them sidewise several times begging them to control themselves. 

The feast grew louder and louder as more food was brought out along with more wine. Mya and Yaya giggled more. "My ladies, please," Lord Davos said. "You are the lady of the Vale." He added looking at Mya, who straightened herself for a moment before falling back into laughter. 

"Do I have to take you both back to your rooms?" he said. 

"Oh you'd like that," Mya quipped back her mood darkening at the thought of her fun being ruined by Lord Davos. Alayaya brought her hand to her mouth to stifle more giggles. 

Lord Davos gave Mya a serious look. "These are trying times. We are to fight a great War. Many of these men will not come back." he said somber words. 

_Men lie, and they die and they leave,_  she remembered. Mya stared directly at the smuggler turned Hand, "Let us drink to that."

"My lady, harsh words,"

"What? harsh? Don't they want a hero's death?"

"They do not know what that means," Davos turned away from her taking a long drink from his mug of ale. Mya went back to moving food around her plate. A young Lordling, the Flint approached the dais asking Alayaya to dance. She readily agreed to join the handsome dark-haired Flint. Mya watched the men and women dance contemplating who of them would be left at the end of this great War. 

_Yes, these were dark times._  Still, Mya hadn't remembered ever having as much fun as she did with Yaya. There had been moments of happiness in the Vale. Those days she was a bastard working for the Royces' of the Gates of the Moon. Her first love was married to another, a girl with a proper name. Now she was the Lady of the Vale and he was little more than a landed knight. How things had changed. They would reach Winterfell soon and if he had yet to fall in battle, she would see him and he her in her new blue gown. 

The lovely dress given to her by Davos' wife was the first proper gown she had ever worn.  She played with the sleaves while the dancing continued and desserts were brought out. At Storm's End, she had even acquired another gown. A more practical affair, black leather, and grey wool cut shorter, it was perfect for traveling. She continued to gaze around the room one of the guards or men-at-arms that had come with Yaya was dancing with a young northern maid, the Locke lordling's sister by the look of it. Her friend was dancing with another Lordling with the handsome dark-haired Flint standing nearby eyeing his competition.

 Alayaya had managed to acquire an even fuller wardrobe since they parted at Dragonstone. Tonight she was in a deep purple with gold and silver trim. It had a deep neckline lined in fur.  _Yaya has at least five gorgeous dresses and two different fur-lined wool cloaks._   When Mya and Davos had met her in Gulltown after leaving the Stormlands, she was there with two heavy trunks and her two men-at-arms. At first, Mya assumed they were sellswords. Upon closer inspection, it seemed the men were hedge knights pressed into Alayaya's service. It seemed almost incredible. 

It wasn't uncommon for a merchant to hire hedge knights and sellswords to protect their goods and trunks while they traveled but a young whore from King's Landing? That was another matter entirely. Chataya's brothel was one of the best in the capital. Though Davos' commented that he could not imagine her parting with a large enough sum of money to buy such clothes and protection for her daughter. 

After much pressing by Davos, Alayaya confided that it was Jaime Lannister that provided the men albeit in plain clothes. The Lannister lion would not be welcome in the Vale much less the North. He wanted to ensure that she made it safely to Winterfell. 

And now they were nearly there. When the party set out from White Harbour on the morrow they would lead a small supply train. Shipments of grain, salted meats, livestock, and dragonglass were needed in Winterfell. She sipped her wine. Davos turned to her finishing his conversation with Lord Manderly. 

"Ya not dancing, my lady?" he asked. 

"There is no one I wish to dance with, my lord."

"Lady Yaya does not seem to lack for partners," he noted. 

"Lady Yaya's not wed to the 13 yr old Lord of the Vale," she reminded the Hand of the King looking straight into his kind brown eyes. 

"He's 13 now, is he?" Davos said taking another swig of his ale to avoid her stare.

Mya furrowed her brow, was the man having a jest at her expense. "Did you not just say that I am the Lady of the Vale and should act accordingly?" she said. 

"I meant no harm, my lady," he said. "Only that even a wedded lady can have a chaste dance now and again."

"Chaste?" she asked. "That's what I am to be now." Davos seemed flustered, his face red from drink. Standing she looked down at him. "I believe I shall retire, my lord."

"And what of the Lady Yaya?"

Mya glanced toward her friend having a merry conversation with the dark-haired Flint while her men-at-arms stood nearby. No doubt under strict orders to ensure her safety. "Lady Yaya will find her own way to the rooms."

"Shall I escort you then," he offered. "Ya never know what kinda drunken louts are wondering about a castle." Mya thought he looked quite drunk himself. 

"Very well," she said taking his arm. She found it endlessly amusing now that she was a true Lady, men were concerned for her safety. They never cared when she lead mules up and down the mountain by herself when she was just a bastard girl. 

Walking slowly out of the hall and down the corridor towards the stairs that led to their chambers, Mya was glad for Davos' strong arm. The wine was going to her head and she giggled as she stumbled once they reached the stairs. The stern Davos from earlier was gone and replaced by the kind man helping her to her room. Granted he was not much better off then she was. Near the door, they both stumbled into the wall. Lord Davos catching her, Mya laughed so hard she could hardly get up which caused Davos to chuckle. 

Reaching the room, Mya opened the door. "Do you plan on leaving me by myself?" she asked. 

"Ahh..my lady..it would not be proper."

"It was not proper at Cape Wrath nor on the ship to Gulltown," she said leaving the door open as she entered the room. "Even your wife suggested it."

"Well..." he followed her in shutting the door behind him. It was not long before they embraced.  

 A few hours later, they were awoken by Lady Yaya stoking a fire in the hearth. Mya's head ached.

"They've sent food to break your fast," she said. "We're to leave on the hour." Mya groaned. She hardly remembered what happened once they reached her room. She remembered kissing the hand of the King in the North quite passionately and not much after that. Mya wasn't even sure if they did much aside from kiss and fall into a drunken slumber.  

Lord Davos was already up putting his jerkin back on. They had been too drunk to even take off all their clothes. Mya was about to ask Yaya where she had slept and realized her friend must have come in an hour or so after them. Seeing them in a drunken sleep on the bed, she must have taken the settee for herself. 

They prepared themselves quickly most of their things were already packed. Yaya helped her put her hair in two braids starting at the top of her head. Mya wore leather breeches underneath a knee-length leather and woolen gown. Leather straps fastened her heavy fur-lined cloak over her shoulders. Yaya wore a burgundy woolen dress with gold stitching and dark gray fur collar. Her heavy cloak matched her dress. She did her own hair in four tight braids starting at the hairline moving toward the middle of her head. The rest of her hair was in tight curls. They admired each other. Yaya claiming that even when traveling in the frigid cold one should be presentable. Mya shook her head but did not mind the hairstyle. It kept the hair out of her face. 

Manderly's men were ready and waiting to help them with horses once they left the guest chambers. The courtyard of New Castle was alive with activity. Mya could hardly believe these were the same men and women that were half in the cups hours before. 

 Wylis Manderly, Lord Manderly's only surviving son, would join them helping lead the group to Winterfell. His cousin Ser Marlon Manderly would also be on hand. The group rode out of New Castle and through White Harbour, Mya worried about the size of their party.  _We are not large but too big to make quick time to Winterfell._

Mya rode up and down the procession. Ensuring no one fell behind. They needed to move quickly and yet speed was nearly impossible. Patience would better serve this journey. 

A heavy snowfall came on the fifth moonday of their journey. That is what the Northern folk had started calling them, moondays. It reminded Mya of her moonblood thankful that it had come the moonday before.  _Mayhaps this Long Night is a time for women._ The heaviest snowfall latest several hours covering their tents and wagons. When the skies cleared there was a half moon to guide the way.

The journey was not easy even when the snow was not falling. Yaya claimed her ears were going to freeze off. Lord Davos assured her that was not the case but found her an extra fur to line her hood with anyways.

It was another three moondays before they were in sight of a torchlit Winterfell, a sprawling castle. Mya thought of all the castles she had seen, most were impressive the Eyrie, Dragonstone, Storm's End. All magical feats of building. Winterfell was not that. It had been added to and added to. Parts were broken and burnt or being rebuilt. Even from a distance, you could see that. 

"Ahh, Winterfell, my ladies," Wylis Manderly said riding up next to Mya and Yaya. An honor guard was riding toward them flying what appeared to be the Stark banners. Towards the back of the procession, Mya saw one banner flying the Arryn falcon. She sat straighter on her horse, that was her sigil now. 

The guards approached them, she saw Lord Nestor Royce ride to the front. She watched a snowy white owl circle overhead. Lord Davos urged her to ride to the front of their group along with him and Wylis Manderly. 

"My Lady Arryn," Lord Nestor smiled. "Welcome, the Queen awaits." He nodded to Lord Davos greeting him and Ser Wylis as well. Mya greeted him with caution. The last time he saw her, she was his servant, leading mules up and down the mountain to the Eyrie. The most she could hope for in those days for a marriage to a sworn sword. In those days she was a bastard girl. Night came and turned the world on its head and with it she was recognized as the daughter of a King, married to the Lord of the Vale, and Sansa Stark was Queen in the North. 

They followed the guard to the gates of Winterfell. Mya saw the same bird follow the procession and perch on the battlements. The courtyard like the one at White Harbor was a blaze of activity.  _Preparing for war but with who?_

"Word is we will fight the army of the dead, my lady," Lord Royce told her. "We will have to go towards the Wall, soon."

"Yes, his grace and Lord Davos informed me of the danger," she said. "The Vale will not abandon the North." She hoped she sounded like a lady. The Vale knights in the yard bowed to her when she passed. Descending her horse, she nodded to the men who bowed to her. 

"And what of the South, my lady?" Lord Nestor asked glancing behind him at Lord Davos, Lady Yaya, and Ser Wylis who followed them. 

"The Queen will want to hear what we have to say," Mya told him. They were rushed into the Great Hall. A line of lords and a few ladies on either side sat at benches and tables. At the high table, Mya saw Sansa sitting calm on a weirwood carved chair next to another identical empty chair. The place for the King. Her auburn waves pulled back around her face by intricate braids, the rest cascading down her shoulders and back. It was so long and glowed like copper in the torchlight. Her gown was dark with a heavy fur-collared cloak over it. Even the cloak did not cover her bulging belly. Mya realized no one had mentioned the Queen was with child. Lord Davos seemed just as surprised as she was. 

"The Lady of the Vale welcome to Winterfell," Sansa stood and said. Mya almost forgot to bow to her. The Queen's face was a cool mask but Mya thought she saw a slight smile form on her lips before turning serious again. 

"Lord Davos, welcome back," she said. "Thank you for accompanying Lady Arryn as well as the supply train. Ser Wylis you are most welcome as well."

"Your grace of course," Lord Davos said. "Please, may I introduce, Lady Yaya from King's Landing." Yaya stepped forward, Mya thought confidence hiding her nervousness. 

"Welcome, Lady Yaya," she said. "I've been told you are great friend to Lady Mya and a great friend to the North." Yaya bowed very low. 

After discussing wartime matters with the Lords. Sansa invited Mya and Yaya to her solar. They were joined by Lord Davos, a girl that by the looks of it was Arya Stark, Bran Stark, and an older man with silver grey hair. Sansa soon introduced him as Howland Reed, head of House Reed. 

"Lady Dayne begs her apologies for not being able to meet you herself, Lady Arryn," he told Mya. 

"Yes, she is still recovering from childbirth. Her daughter is a moonturn already," Sansa informed them. 

Lord Davos congratulated Lord Reed on his new daughter. Adding "Have we be gone that long?" 

"Yes, my lord," Sansa replied. "Even my sister has returned since you have been gone." Pointing to a silent Arya Stark. 

"We heard the good news," he said. "I had the pleasure of meeting the young Lord of Stark at Castle Black. It is just as good to meet you, Princess Arya."

"I'm not a Princess," she said to Lord Davos. Mya held her laughter. Thinking Arya's words sounded like something she might have said when they first made her a Lady. 

"Ignore her," Sansa said waving a hand at her sister, who crossed her arms and gave her sister an annoyed look. "I've heard you may have news for us?"

Mya looked at Yaya, "Yes, we received word from Lady Yaya who stayed behind at Dragonstone while we traveled to Storm's End. Lord Davos wrote to you of it?"

"As much as he could," Sansa said. "Ravens cannot always be trusted."

Yaya stepped forward, "I overheard Lord Tyrion speaking. He intends to...to..how do you say..claim he is still married to you, your grace." Sansa's face became an even harsher mask.

"And..."

"Say that your marriage to the King in the North is invalid," she added. Sansa was silent. Yaya inhaled deeply, "There is good news, your grace." Sansa raised her eyebrows waiting to hear the good news.

"Jaime Lannister, he does not mean to bend to the dragon queen," she said. 

"Of course he doesn't," Sansa almost yelled. "He will never leave Cersei's side."

"I think he means, too," Yaya said. "Or he believes Cersei will lose. Either way, he said he would join the North eventually." The room grew even more silent. 

Sansa turned to Lord Reed, "Please get Lady Brienne," she said. "Thank you, Lady Yaya, Lady Mya that will be all."

"There is one more thing," Yaya said. "Before I left for King's Landing. One of her dragons flew off. She tried to hide it. But the green one..disappeared."

This brought a smile to the Queen's face, "This I already know, Lady Yaya," she said. 

Mya and Yaya left the solar to be shown to the chambers prepared for them. They hardly spoke to each other as they walked. Yaya only saying, "What they say is true, she is Winter's Queen." Mya remembered the girl she knew in the Vale, the girl called Alayne Stone, not Sansa Stark. She had moments of quiet, moments where she seemed haunted by her past. There were happy moments too. Times when she saw Sansa play in the snow or run across the yard with a smile on her face. 

"Oh Yaya, she's still a girl like us. Sometimes, she just has to play at Queen," she told her friend.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Yaya said. 

"You will," Mya assured her. The chambers were warm with a fire in the hearth. Food was brought to them. Later hot water for bathing was brought, too. It wasn't long before both were huddled under furs fast asleep. 

When she woke, Mya joined the men and women in the yard to practice fighting. She was not very good. Lady Brienne suggested she try a crossbow. A giant hulk of a man, they called the Hound practice with a milkglass sword. Whispers were that is was Dawn, a gift from Ashara Dayne to the North for the duration of the war. To be carried by the best fighter in the army. That honor had gone to Sandor Clegane. The world truly had turned upside down, Westeros' most storied blade carried by a man called the Hound. 

She placed an arrow in the crossbow and notched it. Pulling the trigger, she hit the target just off of the bull's eye. Not bad, perhaps the Lady of Tarth was correct about the crossbow. Before she could ready another arrow, a servant approached her.

"Lady Arryn, you are wanted in the Queen's solar," the girl said. Handing the bow to the Vale squire helping her, she left the yard to find the Queen.

Entering the solar, she saw Sansa Stark facing an open window the harsh cold on her face. Her hand on her swollen belly that seemed lower than it had been the previous moonday in the Great Hall. The babe would come very soon. Closing the window and turning around, the Queen had the warmest smile on her face.

"Mya!" she said rushing toward her to embrace Mya. "It has been so long. Too long. I'm sorry that yesterday we could not properly catch up."

"Your grace," Mya responded with a bow.

"Please, in private, please call me Sansa," she said. Mya smiled remembering that she had first met Sansa Stark when she was using the name Alayne and pretending to be Lord Baelish's bastard daughter. "As you can see things have changed for both of us," Sansa added.

"Yes, they have," Mya agreed. 

"You're not angry with me?" she asked. Mya looked confused for a moment. "For arranging your marriage? Lord Robyn...he is so young and.."

Mya smiled slightly shaking her head, "No..."

"I told Bronze Yohn if you refused, we would not pursue it. We would find another way..." she said.  _There was no other way. No one else who had nothing to lose but could be made noble enough to marry a Lord._

"The Vale is my home. I married for the mountain. To keep it safe."

"And that is what we plan to do," Sansa said 

"From the army of the dead?" Mya asked.

"Yes, there is that. And from those in the south who wish us harm," she said. Mya smiled wider.  _She knows we are fighting two wars. She knows more than her king._  Sansa motioned for her to sit. Sansa questioned her on all she had learned at Dragonstone and at Storm's End. 

Mya believed the Storm Lords would support the King and Queen in the North. She told Sansa that they thought Edric Storm, another Baratheon bastard was still alive and in hiding. The Queen added that her sister Arya had met another named Gendry in the Riverlands. The old king had many children it seemed. 

Sansa continued to press her, Did she believe Lady Yaya's claim that Jaime Lannister would join their cause? Was she sure of Tyrion's intentions? They talked and Mya could see Sansa formulating a plan behind her claim polite facade. 

A commotion could be heard in the hallway, a squire named Podrick entered the room, stumbling over his words, "My Lady...I mean your grace...come..come now"

"What is it Pod," she asked.

"Come...dragons...a dragon...is here.."

"Seven bloody hells" Sansa shouted getting up faster than one would expect a woman carrying a child. Groaning she moved not very quickly toward the door.

"Sansa, your grace, let me help you," Mya said holding her arm and leading her out into the corridor. Lady Brienne was rushing towards them. 

"Your grace it's too dangerous," she said.

Sansa shot her a steely gaze, "I'll decide that for myself, Lady Brienne." 

As they made their way towards the covered walkway another guard came to them, saying the beast was circling the castle as if it meant to land. "We have manned the walls with archers," he assured the Queen.

"And what good will arrows do against a dragon?" she said. 

Even though the queen was right, Mya wished she had one of the crossbows with her.  _Anything would be better than nothing._  Arya was already there when they reached the outer castle walls, staring at the snowy dark landscape. They were just in time to see the green and bronze beast land before the main gate.

Mya's hand went to her mouth at the site before them, "Gods be good," she said. Brienne and her squire were speechless. Arya had a smile on her face. 

Sansa pursed her lips sighing before yelling, "Open the gates," and then under her breath, she said, "And someone tell the King in the North to stop showing off."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part has one more chapter and an epilogue coming. After that, it is on to Part 4! I probably won't post the epilogue until I have the first chapter of part 4 ready to post...so I can easily link from one to the other. Part 4 is going to get pretty dark...I know this story is dark...but yea it can always get darker.
> 
> And I still undecided for the title of Part 4. Here are some thoughts. Would love your comments. 
> 
> Shadows Before Dawn
> 
> Shadow Tower
> 
> Hour of the Wolf
> 
> Wolves, Shadows, and Beasts that fly
> 
> The Great War
> 
> Night Continued
> 
> The Grey Court
> 
> King and Queen of the Dead


	20. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sansa watched Jon walk toward the fire in the hearth. His strong shoulders slumped as he put his arms on the mantle staring down into the flames. She wanted to take him in her arms, take them both to their chambers or deep into the crypts, to a place where they could pretend the dead were not coming."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a beast of a chapter! I usually don't write them quite this long but well...lots had to happen. There is lots of dialogue. I've been working on a play recently...so dialogue is on my mind..lol. Please forgive me!
> 
> I've been working towards this moment since almost the beginning of the series! And it's only taken me a year. I was writing this story for a few months before I started posting here. I really hope y'all enjoy it. Thanks to everyone for reading! I feel this is only the beginning of Jon and Sansa's story. (Ok maybe closer to the middle...lol.)  
> Also, I appreciate the patience with how often I'm able to update. I write as fast as I can and life allows. :-)  
> See the end for more notes.

**Sansa**

Sansa was alone in the dim solar, lit by a fire flickering in the hearth. She rubbed her temples where her head hurt. When was the last time she had slept well? Her large belly made it impossible to sleep even though the babe, her babe, had moved less recently. She watched her belly move up and down under her woolen and velvet grey gown. Over her shoulders, she wore a heavy grey fur cloak. Her hair pulled back it forehead with braids, fell loose over her shoulders. It was so very long now.  

There was a slight knock. Jon peered around the door.  She looked up giving him a weary smile. He walked towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He still wore his heavy cloak with the fur collar. The one she had made for him. Underneath, she could see the gorget he wore over his leather jerkin. She thought, he looked like a King even when he refused to wear a crown. Jon stood above her kissing her forehead and moving his hand to her belly. She gently placed her hand over his. The babe pushed it's tiny foot or fist out. She heard Jon gulp. 

Upon his return to Winterfell. Sansa had left him in the yard to see Arya and Bran. Despite her need for answers, her need to know what was happening. To know, why he returned from the Wall, so abruptly.  _Was he not supposed to be at the Nightfort preparing the defenses._   _And why he was riding a dragon._  Sansa knew he needed his time with Arya and Bran, especially Arya, however brief. So, she left them in the yard. 

Arya had jumped into his arms the moment he walked through the gates. Sansa remembered her own tears when she saw Jon for the first time at Castle Black.  _So many moons ago. And now our family is back together._ She wanted to rejoice and throw a feast. In happy times that is what we would do. These were not happy times. She wondered if they would ever know a true feast again. In spring, in spring they would have a feast she told herself.   

"We must have a council meeting," she said breaking the silence between them.

"With our advisors...yes,"

"And with all the Lords and Ladies," she added. Jon nodded. He placed a small notebook on her table. 

"You forgot this," he said. She picked up the notebook giving a slight laugh. 

"Oh," she said flipping through the pages. "Thank you". 

Sansa watched Jon walk toward the fire in the hearth. His strong shoulders slumped as he put his arms on the mantle staring down into the flames. She wanted to take him in her arms, take them both to their chambers or deep into the crypts, to a place where they could pretend the dead were not coming. 

"We fought them back. They tried to breach the Wall at Castle Black," he told her. 

"That's good, then," Sansa letting herself feel an ounce of hope. 

"No, no it's not," he turned around to face her almost yelling. Clutching his sword hand, "They killed one of the dragons."

"Oh,"

"And they raised that dragon." 

"Oh..." Sansa's head began to throb again. She closed her eyes and touched her forehead.Her breath was heavy. Jon walked behind her, taking her hand. Telling her, he rode Rhaegal back as fast as he could to bring more troops and to warn Winterfell.   _A dragon is faster than a raven._  She leaned her head back against his stomach. Would it be too much to hope for a quiet moment? 

They summoned their small council of Lords and Ladies to discuss the plans. Sansa saw that the council had grown, Lord Davos joined her and Jon, Lord Nestor Royce and Mya Stone spoke for the Vale, Little Lady Mormont and the younger Lord Manderly represented the Northern Lords along with the younger Starks. Bran seemed more dazed since Sansa's return from the Wall. Arya stood back listening and watching never offering more. Sansa knew her sister seethed underneath. Howland Reed and Meera joined them with Lady Dayne her new daughter held in a sling. Samwell Tarly joined them as well. Brienne ushered in Lady Yaya who Sansa had decided should join them. They were both links to Jaime Lannister and if he truly planned to pledge himself to their cause Lady Yaya would be useful. 

Jon told them of what happened at the Wall, the arrival of Daenerys and her dragons, the attack by the others. He had left her with the wildling fighters and the forces at Nightfort. While at least a portion of her army was headed to Winterfell along with Tyrion Lannister. Sansa cringed to hear this. She saw Mya and Lady Yaya glance sidewise at each other upon hearing this news. It was Lord Royce that asked if Jon trusted Daenerys to hold back the dead. 

"For now," he said causing a murmur to go around the room. He looked at each of them. Sansa knew what would follow, "She wants us to bend to her," he told them. 

"Daenerys wants more than a bent knee," Sansa said. 

Jon looked across the table at her, only at her. She continued staring back at Jon, "Lady Yaya informed us that Tyrion Lannister would like at least one marriage alliance." They must discuss this now even if their entire council was present.

"Bran and Ayra are too young," Jon said. Sansa didn't turn to look at her sister to know her eyes were narrowing at this comment. 

"Not them," Sansa said never taking her eyes from Jon, "Us." Jon inhaled clutched his sword hand. There was a murmur amongst their council. 

"That's not possible, your grace," Lord Davos reminded them. "They know ya've wed."

"Yes, they know we've wed. They're being few witnesses and we married in sight of the old Gods," Sansa said not finishing the thought. 

"And they do not know you are with child, your grace. Do they?" the all-knowing Lady Dayne said. Sansa gave the slightest nod.  

"It makes no matter," Sansa added. "They'll say the child is a bastard and marriage invalid." Jon's fist slammed down on the table. 

"I have not fathered a bastard," he again almost yelled. 

"Or worse," Sansa said looking around the room. She wanted each person to understand the situation, "They'll say I'm still married to Tyrion Lannister and he'll try to make a claim." Jon's face turned to rage both hands gripping the table. 

"Never," he said in a low voice. "Never." Turning away from the table he walked toward the hearth. He is angry and thinking thought Sansa. She had to make him understand the stakes. 

"And then you will be free to marry the dragon queen," Sansa continued. "That is what they want. That is what they want for their assistance against the dead. It is what they've always wanted." The room was silent. Jon's heavy breathing was all that could be heard. Sansa noticed Arya had left the room. 

"Your graces, if that is what they want we do not need their alliance," little Lady Lyanna Mormont said. Sansa tried to give her a smile. 

"I'm afraid we do, my lady," Sansa replied. "Even if we did not need their assistance they have dragons. Dragons that could burn Winterfell and everyone in it."

"My queen, the King rides Rhaegal. Can he not control him?" pointed out Lord Royce.

"Oh Drogon is much much bigger," Lady Yaya assured them. "I've seen all three with Lady Mya and Lord Davos. It's said Rhaegal is the hardest to control. His grace my ride the beast but control it truly." There was a glimmer in her eye when she spoke. Sansa thought Lady Yaya would learn the true danger of dragons soon enough.

It's was Mya Stone that spoke next. "What do you plan to do, your grace?" 

Sansa exhaled,  _I do not know. I do not know._  Instead, she said, "I assure you the safety of the North and our people come first. We will do what is best for all of us. For now, let us plan for the war." 

They allowed Lord Davos to guide the discussion to plans for a potential siege. Followed by plans for an evacuation of the castle. Sam Tarly offered his learnings from the Citadel on sieges and evacuations. Sansa wanted people taken to the relative safety of the Vale before the dead came, others thought it too dangerous to risk. Sansa persisted saying Lady Mya could lead the people and another group. They talked of who would go with Jon back to the Wall. She assigned tasks to each, things to do and prepare. Throughout, Jon was silent in his anger. 

Sansa seeing the weary faces around her, she suggested they take a midday meal. Asking all to keep what was discussed in the council to themselves. Gently, reminding them she would know if they did not. And telling them they would meet with their bannermen after the meal. 

Jon walked out of the solar not looking at Sansa.  _He goes to the yard to hit something or to be alone in the Godswood._  

 The midday meal, if it could be called that was a solemn affair. The sliver of a crescent moon could be seen high in the sky. The only sign that time passed during the months of the Long Night.  Wanting time alone before the large meeting with their bannermen, she left the meal early. Her mind on how to protect her people. The light snowfall that had persisted for the past several hours was beginning to pick up. She found herself standing on the covered walkway watching the men prepare to go to battle. Her owl Alysanne was perched across the yard facing her high on the castle wall. Sansa smiled at the bird. Arya was in the thick of it watching the men, helping when and where she could. 

"You told me she was going to kill Cersei?" Jon said coming up next to Sansa. His anger seemed to have dissipated 

"She says she is every day. And the next day she's still here," Sansa said. 

"Hmm"

"I remind her of this fact. She's here and Cersei's still alive," Sansa said. "Then she just gets angry."

"I can't imagine why."

"If she isn't really going to do it, she should stop saying it," Sansa said. 

"Perhaps, she is staying for other reasons," Jon suggested looking down at Sansa's belly. 

"That girl is infuriating," Sansa said shaking her head. "Besides I can't let her leave."

Jon chuckled to himself.

"What's so funny?"

"You shouldn't fight with her,"

"I'm not..." Sansa said. "She's the one that gets angry. Did I tell you how she shot an arrow at me?"

"She's your sister," he said.

"And pointed a sword at me...she said because I wasn't being careful. What does that mean?"

"You need each other."

"Now you sound like father," Sansa let out a giant sigh muttered to herself about something needing to be done about Arya. Sansa knew her sister would insist soon enough to either go kill Cersei or go fight with Jon.  _The girl will get herself killed._  Rubbing her belly, Sansa knew the only reason her sister still stayed.

"Jon, what if she's like Arya?"

Jon's mouth spread into the biggest smile Sansa had seen on his face in months. "Then we would be blessed."

Sansa shook her heard, "Blessed or cursed. Oh Arya is turning into a pretty even beautiful girl...she's smart and generous and just so...so....weird...and annoying.."

"Arya's...not..." Jon started to say turning to look at the yard to see Arya play fighting with the air. Sighing, "Well it's not like the rest of us are much better."

"Oh gods...our daughter..." Sansa closed her eyes, grabbing Jon's arm. The realization that there was very little hope for a daughter born to this family to be a nice normal lady. Jon smiled at her and reached for her hand. 

He escorted her to the Great Hall for the meeting to begin. A raven had come from Riverrun. Jaime Lannister had arrived there with hardly any men but himself. He had left Cersei's cause.  _Only the seven knew why, he left her._  Sansa's uncle would take refugees from the North as previously requested and Jaime Lannister would join a small band of men and head for Winterfell. This was good news. The only good news they had it seemed to Sansa. 

The meeting continued for hours. They told the bannermen of their plans to take reinforcements to the Wall and of plans for evacuations. Who would go to Riverrun and who would go to the Vale. Sansa could see that the wind had grown stronger. Outside the windows of the Great Hall, she could see a blanket of white snow despite the dark night. A blizzard was upon them. She feared they would not be able to send even modest reinforcements during a storm.Whatever plans they made would not be acted upon until after the storm she announced. 

"I suggest that we all remain in the castle until the storm passes," Lord Davos finally said towards the end of the meeting. Jon gave commands that the outer Walls be manned and fires maintained. Sansa saw the worry on his face. Lady Dayne stood in the back of the hall, the baby Ahwrenne in a sling. Her face solemn. Sansa could see her thoughts,  _The storm brings the dead._ Her head began to throb again. 

When Jon ended the meeting, Sansa retreated to her room to rest. She was followed by Samwall Tarly. Sent by Jon no doubt. She knew she looked tired, she was pregnant. Once in her chambers, she allowed him to examine her after she changed into her black furlined robe with the white direwolf embroidered on the back. 

Brienne opened the door to say that Jon was outside. Sansa reminded her that his grace could enter her chambers whenever he liked. Sansa smiled seeing Jon as he quietly entered the room. Ghost followed him and took a seat near the fire.  

The exam continued and Jon sat in a chair with his elbows on his knees. Samwell Tarly wrung his hands nervously looking down at Sansa sat up on the bed. She tried to ignore his stammering. 

"The babe will ...will...come any day now..." he started shuffling his feet.  Jon turned his head away from the flames. 

"I have to go back to the Wall...to the Front," he said. "As soon as the men are ready and the storm has passed. We have to leave. The babe needs to come." Sansa knew he wanted to be at Winterfell for the child.  _To claim his child._  She also knew he would do anything to save them from the dead. 

"There are ways to speed the uh..uh..process," Samwell said. Raising an eyebrow Sansa waited for Sam to continue. "Herbs...I could prepare a tonic..."

"It's winter...where will you find these herbs?" she asked. 

"Maester Wolkan certainly has some..." he paused for another moment. "Walking...helps.." Sansa put her hands on her large belly. 

"You suggest my queen walk in snow drifts like this?" Jon's voice was on edge. 

"Jon..." Sansa said closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Perhaps a walk would not be so bad."

"There is also..well...they say...you can start the labor by..." he seemed even more nervous.

"Yes?" Sansa said.

"Well..by..you know..ah having relations," he said looking at the floor. Jon let out a loud laugh. 

"What's so funny!" Sansa asked pushing herself up off the bed and walking toward Jon. 

"Sansa..you're..well you're very pregnant."

"I knew it," she said tears welling in her eyes. "You think I'm fat and ugly."

"Sansa.." Jon started to say, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Sansa pursed her lips, folding her arms across her chest. 

"You spend weeks with the dragon queen at the Wall. You think she's more beautiful " she said. "I'm not even good enough for you to fuck, now." 

"Sansa!" he growled. "Since when do you talk like that.." She turned her back to him. Jon said to Sam, "Leave us." She heard Jon escort Sam out of the room. Sam muttered, "Maester Leon's book on birth says they get emotional towards the end."

"I'm not being emotional!" Sansa yelled. She felt a hand on her arm. Turning about to tell him to stop touching her, Sansa saw Jon's long face filled with concern. She began to cry. He put both hands on either side of her head stroking her hair and then pulled her as close as he could. She sobbed even more. 

"You can't even hug me, properly." she moaned through her tears. 

"Shhh..." he said. "let's lay down." Guiding her to the bed, Sansa laid down as best she could. Jon was next to her, and she nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder. 

She sighed the tears abating. "Everything makes me cry lately," Jon said nothing running his hand up and down her arm, kissing her forehead. They laid there for several moments. 

"Perhaps we should take Sam's advice," Jon said to her. "I'd like to hold my child before I go fight this war."

"Our child, only our child. I'll not let anyone else claim her," Sansa said looking up at him. Jon nodded and kissed her deeply. 

She stopped him saying"I don't even know how...I'm so very...big..."

"I'm sure it's not hard," he said. Sansa smiled at him. Her hand found his thigh. She grazed her fingers up towards his crotch. He kissed her, sucking in until she bit his bottom lip. Pressing her palm between his legs, feeling his hard cock underneath his breeches. 

She loosened the laces, so he could take off his breeches.  Sansa lifted his tunic and kissed his chest. Jon sat up pulling off his tunic and removing the breeches. She leaned back with her hand on her belly admiring him. 

"Maybe if we're wolves, it'll be easier?" she said sitting up and shifting on the bed.  Sansa let the fur-lined robe fall off her shoulders. She pulled her woolen shift over her head. Jon guided her hips until she was on all fours. The room was warm and cool at the same time. The slight draft pricked her skin and she felt alive. 

Sansa felt Jon's hand slide between her legs. He moved his fingers between the folds of her lady parts. When she turned her head she could see that he used his other hand to stroke his cock. She moaned louder when he put his thumb on her arsehole. He was silent like his wolf while he made her peak. Once she did he put his cock up against her raised arse. Searching for the entrance between her legs. He found it entering her with care. 

The back and forth rhythm of his cock inside her lulled Sansa. She thought she could stay like this forever. Just as she began to wonder if she would peak again, she felt a sensation from deep inside her. Her arms and legs trembled. Her large belly prevented her from burying her face in the pillows. She let out a moan so loud half the castle must have heard. Jon dug his fingers into her hips and moved faster, thrusting harder. Jutting his cock into her. She cried out louder. When he tried to reach around to cover her mouth, she bit his finger. He moved his hand back to her hips. Giving one last thrust, he held himself inside her while he spilled his seed. 

Clasping onto her side on the bed, Sansa was panting. Jon laid down facing her. Running a hand from her face down along her side and resting it on her the curve of her hip. They stared at each other. 

"I'm scared, Jon," she said. "What if.." He moved to kiss her. 

"Me too..." he said pulling the furs over them. Sansa shut her eyes. 

Hours later Sansa woke to the sound of low voices. Jon was eating in a chair near the hearth and across from him sat Lady Dayne and Bran. 

She laid in bed listening to the voices. They spoke of dragons and Daenerys and shadows. Jon asked Bran if he could do it. Lady Dayne sounded concerned. 

Every so often Sansa felt a tightening in her belly. The babe would come soon. Perhaps before the new moon rose. Not that anyone could tell with the storm raging outside the castle. 

Sansa wanted a bath. She wanted to bathe in the hot spring pool deep in the lowest levels of the crypts. In the room painted with wolves. She would birth her child there if she could. 

"Take me to the crypts," she asked Jon. 

"Why would I do that?"

"I want to see father...and...Lady and I want to bathe," she said. 

"Sansa, look outside," he replied. "You won't be able to see two feet in front of you. You would risk getting lost on the castle grounds to bathe?"

"Ghost can lead us,"

"Sansa," he said. "Please, I don't want to spend my last hours at Winterfell searching the grounds in a blizzard for my queen." Sansa sighed and grimaced trying to hide it. Jon took notice this time.

"If we're lucky you'll spend the last hours holding your child," Lady Dayne said from behind him.  _How did she always know before one said anything?_ Sansa would forever be amazed at Ashara Dayne's abilities and quiet boldness.  "Your graces, shall a call for a bath to be brought to the chambers?" Lady Dayne asked. 

Jon's eyes widened, "Yes, I think that is best,"

Sansa relented deciding to save her strength for the birthing bed.  _Perhaps another time, I can bathe in the crypts._

It was Arya who brought the tub and hot water to Sansa's chambers with her handmaidens. Her sister helped into the tub. Lady Dayne with her daughter in her sling and Jon stayed in the room. While she soaked in the warm water, Arya washed her hair and combed it. Her sister had never combed her hair before. It reminded Sansa of her mother and she was at once overwhelmed with sadness and joy.  _Arya was with her._

Samwell came to see her with Maester Wolkan. She sighed that with the storm outside there was no way to bring the midwife from Wintertown. Maester Wolkan and Samwell Tarly would have to help her along with Lady Dayne. Sending her sleeping babe to her own chambers to be with Lord Reed, Ashara told Sansa that Shadowbinders in Essos often provided many types of services including when needed midwifery. 

At first, the tightening came ever so often. Soon, the pain increased and before long she could hardly speak. The tightening in her stomach felt constant. Jon asked if he should stay. She wanted him too. Others thought he might want to leave. He mumbled something about needing to see to the preparations. Sansa saw that Ghost stayed behind. 

The voices began to blur as the hours went by. Sansa lost track of how long she was in pain. Every so often Jon would come back to hold her hand before he left the room overwhelmed. She was sweating and her hair turned a deep dark red spread out over the bed. She thought it must look like blood. They asked her to try push and she did. Still, the babe did not come out. 

"We'll have to cut her," one said. 

"Let me do it," said another voice it sounded like Lady Dayne. "I've done it before in Essos."

"No, I can," said Arya pulling her sword out. 

The door opened and Jon rushed in, "What are you doing?" he yelled grabbing the thin sword Arya had heated and let cool in the fire.

"Jon stop," Arya said. 

"I'll not let you hurt her," he said holding the sword over Sansa. She looked up at him and in her daze she remembered a dream she had had so very long ago. If it weren't for the pain, she would cry out in fear. 

"Jon," Sam said. "We're not going to hurt her...it's uhh..it's uhh well sometimes..." 

Lady Dayne interceded for him. "She hasn't torn yet, your Grace." Sansa couldn't tell for sure but she thought Jon seemed confused. She screamed out again as the pain increased. Lady Dayne held her hand out for Arya's sword. 

"Perhaps, your grace, you could hold her hand," Lady Dayne said. Jon did as he was told. Arya wiped Sansa's forehead. Lady Dayne mumbled certain words before making a slight cut between Sansa's legs. She hardly felt it with all the other pain. They told her to push one more time and she could feel the babe coming out. Moments later there was a cry in the room. 

"Let me see, her" Sansa said before anything else. 

Sam chuckled, "It is a girl, a little princess." 

"She is not even washed, yet," Maester Wolkan said. 

"Let me see my daughter," Sansa said. "And you can leave now, Maester. Samwell can examine her." 

Lady Dayne placed the babe on Sansa's bare chest. She also put the afterbirth in a shallow bowl. Jon looked at the child in awe, touching her ever so gently. 

Sam said to Sansa, "She needs to be cleaned and you need to be stitched," Sansa let him take the babe and wash her in warm water. He also took her measurements writing them down in a book. Jon followed Sam across the room watching him with the baby. Lady Dayne stitched the cut between Sansa's legs telling her she was sorry they had to do it. It was only because it was absolutely necessary. The words faded into the back of Sansa's mind all she wanted was to hold her baby again. 

"My queen," Lady Dayne said, "Please you should do this." She holding the bowl with Sansa's afterbirth. 

Arya helped her up. She still felt weak as she walked toward the hearth. Jon and Sam watched from the other side of the room with the baby.  Ashara held the bowl in front of her saying ancient words, the same words she had said at her own daughter's birth, "Death for life, blood for blood." 

Sansa repeated them and took the half the afterbirth into her mouth eating it. Placing the other half into the flames she remembered the rest of the words, "A queen for a queen." She watched the fire crackle and burn while blood streamed down her chin. She saw blue and green in the flames. She saw dragons and wolves.  _Her daughter was both._

Turning, "My baby," she said. Arya helped her back to the bed still bloody from the birth. They brought her rags to wash her face but she refused them until Jon took the child from Sam and brought her back to Sansa cleaned and wrapped in fresh swaddling. 

Sansa thought she was the most beautiful thing she ever saw. A mess of brownish red hair sticking straight up. Her eyes opened slightly. Sansa thought they appeared to be dark grey pools almost black in the dim light of her chambers.

"She's so small," Arya said touching the baby's tiny hand.

"She's strong, though," Sam said. "What will you name her? For the records?"

Sansa looked at Jon and smiled, "I like the name you added," she said. 

Jon smiled back, "You saw that?"

"Of course," Sansa said looking to Arya. "A Stark name. And the name of the first Sansa Stark's sister."

Staring back down at her daughter Sansa said, "Serena is a beautiful name for a princess."

"For a Queen," Jon said. Turning to Sam, "Her name is Serena of House Stark. One day she will be Queen in the North." 

As her handmaidens changed the bedding. Sansa let her sister hold the new princess. tears poured from Arya's eyes as she gazed at her niece. Sansa looked out the window. The wind had stopped howling and there was a clear greyness to the sky.  _The wolves had gone quiet and the sky turned the colors of our house._   _Was it possible that the Long Night had ended?_

"Would that it had," Lady Dayne said reading her thoughts, "I fear the false dawn is upon us. And the great storm has only just begun." Sansa took Serena back into her arms hugging her tighter and felt Jon's hand clutch her shoulder. They were Starks, winter did not scare them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm by no means an expert at childbirth and stuff please forgive any inaccuracies. I did research what I could. 
> 
> There will be an epilogue and Pt. 4 coming soon! I'll try to post the epilogue and 1st chapter of Pt. 4 at the same time. That's the goal at least. 
> 
> The titles people like the best for Pt. 4 are  
> Shadows Before Dawn  
> Hour of the Wolf  
> Wolves, Shadows, and Beasts that fly
> 
> Would love to keep getting feedback on those! Thank you all for reading!


End file.
